Letters to Our Fathers
by Croweh1
Summary: Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy are starting their first year at Hogwarts, Albus has been made a Slytherin. As the boys strike up an awkward friendship, their fathers are going through possibly the toughest times of their lives since the war. Draco is going through a divorce. Harry is fighting with Ginny. Can their sons' friendship help create a bond between the two old rivals?
1. A Snake in the Family

**Hey guys. Thanks for checking this out. This is my first ever fanfiction, so go easy on me, okay? This story will be Drarry eventually, so if you don't like that, don't read it. However, if it does end up being mature later, I will warn you up here in the author's comments before that happens. Also, all of the spelling errors in Albus's letters are supposed to be there. He's 11 and I know I wrote terrible in sixth grade, so that is the reason for that. He'll be the only one though because Scorpius and Draco write perfectly (Harry might use slang every now and then). Also, I'm American and I'm going to try and incorporate British terms, but don't attack me if I don't get them right please. Thanks and if you like it, please review!**

**~ Croweh  
**

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Chapter 1: A Snake in the Family

_Dear Dad,_

_ I really really hope what you said about that Slytherin headmaster was true. Cuz if it wasn't, I'm going to be so angry. Guess what house I was put in? Slytherin! Rosie is so mad at me! She hasn't talked to me besides calling me a traitor – can you believe that?! – all week! I think Uncle Ron has been telling her too many tails about Slytherin lately. James just thinks it's funny. You know how he is. He keeps calling me his "little spy"; he probly just wants the password to my common room so he can sneak dungbombs in here. It's not funny at all. _

_ I haven't had much of a chance to talk to my other cuzins, but they don't seem too happy I'm in Slytherin either. I really don't see why. I mean, you said Slytherins can be brave too, so we're not that diffrent from Gryffindor! And the Slytherins are actually really really nice! Oh! Speaking of them, can you keep a secret? Don't tell Mum, but speshily don't tell Uncle Ron please! I met Scorpius Malfoy. You know the one that Uncle Ron was telling Rosie to beat at everything? He's really quiet round most people, kinda scared for some reason. But after being REALLY nice to him, he started talking to me. Well, mumbling. But it's a start! I told him you knew his dad in school, but he didn't seem too happy about that. Do you know why that is?_

_ Anyway, my first week was pretty crazy. My favorite subjects so far are Transfiguration and Potions. Speaking of which! Did you know Professor McGonagall can turn into a cat?! She was just sitting there on the table as a cat when all of us first years got into the Great Hall and then after the Sorting was done, she just transformed! It was great! Dominique said it was no big deal because she does it every year, but I thought it was really cool!_

_Love you and Mum,_

_Al_

Harry chuckled quietly as he sat in his favorite armchair in front of the fire. The flames roared beside him, but he ignored it. He was not expecting anyone tonight. Lily was sleeping over at Ron and Hermione's house with Hugo, and Ginny was at a reunion party with the other Holyhead Harpies members that had settled down to have kids. It was a nice, quiet evening. In fact, the only ones in the house were the Blacks' old house-elf Kreacher and Harry's eagle owl Adalia, who had been a Christmas present from Ginny two years ago to celebrate the coming graduation of their first child. Or, at least, the first child they had raised, with a bit of help from Andromeda.

Harry snorted to himself. Andromeda had done most of the work with raising Teddy, though she had warned Harry that when he had kids of his own, she would not be there to back him up. She wasn't lying, either. When James was born, both Andromeda Tonks and Molly Weasley had resolutely refused to help more than the occasional babysitting duty. It was understandable, to a point. Molly and Arthur had raised seven children of their own, which meant that they currently had twelve grandchildren, thirteen if Teddy was included which he most often was. This meant that if they let themselves open to raising a few of their grandchildren, then they would end up raising almost double of the amount they had originally raised. No, they preferred a nice quiet retirement with the occasional visit from their overly large family.

As for Andromeda, she was just tired. She had already raised a rambunctious daughter, just to have to raise her grandson as well while his godparents tried to finding their footing in the ground. Her grandson had turned out to carry both the clumsiness and silliness that Tonks had possessed as well as the Marauders blood from Lupin. As for any other traits from his parents, he was born a metamorphmagus like his mother. Any sign of the werewolf his father had been was nonexistent except for maybe his love of meat. Harry had been almost positive that Teddy was a carnivore for a few years, a conclusion that both Andromeda and Ginny had scoffed at.

Harry sighed and shook his head, reading over his youngest son's letter again. Albus was a Slytherin. He couldn't help it; he grinned at that thought and started laughing to himself. Oh, Ginny was going to have a heart attack when he told her. A Slytherin in the family! She and everyone else were going to blame him too. The only one that might stick up for him would be Hermione, and that was because she still firmly believed in inter-house unity, even though it had been nearly twenty years now since they had set foot at that school as students. Harry stopped laughing at that thought. Had it been twenty years already since that fateful sixth year? It had been his last year at Hogwarts. Hermione and Ginny had gone back for one more year: Ginny to do her seventh year and Hermione to take what Professor McGonagall had dubbed "eighth year". A few others had done the same as Hermione such as Parvati, Neville and Dean, Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff, Padma Patil and one or two other Ravenclaws, and Draco Malfoy.

As far as he knew, Draco Malfoy had been the only Slytherin to turn up for McGonagall's "eighth year". According to Hermione, he had not done anything of the sort that was typical to Malfoy's personality, or, at least, his personality during Harry's first six years at Hogwarts. He had been quiet, kept his head down, and sat out his N.E.W.T.s, and then promptly disappeared for the next eighteen years. Harry knew why he had attended, of course. Malfoy had been forced to attend the extra year in order to serve his probation under McGonagall's watchful eyes. Harry was the reason for that. He had stood up for Malfoy and his mother during the Trials. Mrs. Malfoy had gotten off on all accounts, having never even received the Dark Mark. Mr. Malfoy, however, had been sentenced to five years in Azkaban for his crimes and then would have to do regular check-ups with the Ministry after that. Draco Malfoy had been given duties to help during the clean-up of Hogwarts as well as to serve his year's probation at the school. After that, he was as free as his mother.

Malfoy had disappeared after that. A few years later, a short clipping at been posted in the _Daily Prophet_ that he had married a woman by the name of Astoria Greengrass. However, that was all. Harry sometimes wondered what Malfoy had made of himself after all of these years, and he had been a little more than surprised to see him at the Platform a week ago. He had looked so…old. It was as if all of the life in him had been stripped out and he had lost all will to live. Yet, he was still going on just as Harry was. It had made Harry worry that he looked that old as well, and had promptly run home after the train departed to get a look at himself in the mirror. Thankfully, his hair was still completely messy and black as it always had been and as far as he could tell, only a few lines at marred his face.

Ginny had caught him in front of the mirror and just laughed and laughed at his expression when he asked her frantically if he looked old. Her answer hadn't been reassuring. "Of course you do! You're thirty-seven now, Harry. Haven't you noticed? A few hours ago we were hoping Teddy would marry Victoire. You're really thick sometimes, you know that right?" Harry had just frowned and gone back to staring at himself in the mirror. Surely he wasn't that old. What had happened to the last nineteen years?

Harry frowned into the fire and sunk lower into the armchair, wondering why Albus had said Malfoy's son was quiet. That did not make sense at all to him. The Malfoy Harry knew was loud and contemptuous, selfish and sneering. Draco Malfoy had been nothing short of a prat when Harry had met him. So why? Why was his son, this – Harry glanced at the letter again – Scorpius refusing to speak to a fellow Slytherin? Was it because Albus was his son? Had Malfoy told him to stay away from the Potters just as his own father had done about the Weasleys? It made sense. The Malfoy he knew was a prat and would teach little Scorpius every slimy thing his father had ever told him about being pureblood and above others. Yes, that was probably it.

Harry scowled. His own reasoning seemed flawed just from the recent memory of the Platform. Malfoy had nodded at him as an equal, as someone that understood so much more than they were willing to say. It had been almost like a truce to the war they had raged on each other since they were both foolish first years. So then why –

"What's got your panties all in a twist?" A familiar voice said from the doorway to the drawing room.

Harry looked up in surprise to see Ginny standing there in turquoise robes with a smirk firmly planted on her lips. She walked forward into the room, removing her jewelry and placing them on various table tops as she went. Ginny then pulled her long hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall down her back perfectly, as she crawled into Harry's lap, who was hastily shoving Albus's letter into the space between the cushion and the chair.

"So c'mon, why are you looking as if Kreacher burnt your dinner?" She teased, completely unconcerned about the letter Harry was hiding. She had long given up asking him what each and every letter he received said, especially when most of them were top secret auror letters.

"Why are you home so early? Get sick of the Harpies already?" He deflected her question. He did not wish to go into detail about his thoughts about the Malfoys, especially when that would lead to questions about why he was thinking of Malfoy in the first place and Albus had told him not to tell.

"No. Marsha got sick after drinking too many firewhiskeys too fast and Roger had to take her home. It was no fun without them." She responded snappily. "Don't change the subject though. Why are you in a rotten mood?"

"I'm not in a rotten mood!" Harry protested, which just earned him crossed arms and a glare from his wife. "Fine. If you must know, I'm a little miffed at our nieces and nephews. They've been acting not very nice to Al since he was made a Slytherin." There. He said it. Well, most of it. He left out the Malfoys, obviously, but he had said enough to get her off his back because now she had a new conflict to think about.

"Al. Was. Made. A. Slytherin?" She said very slowly, making each word a sentence on its own. Her almond brown eyes widened slightly in shock, her mouth moving slightly every few seconds as if she were on the verge of saying something. Her mind was going incredibly fast for a few good minutes, before she landed on him. "Oh, Harry! You told him about Snape on the platform, didn't you? You should have just told him there was no chance in hell that he was going to Slytherin. Then he'd be a Gryffindor like the rest of the family!"

Harry's eyes narrowed at this. He had seen it coming, but hearing it come out of her mouth was much worse than him predicting it inside of his head. "Dominique isn't in Gryffindor." He said cooly.

"Yes, but she is in Ravenclaw!"

"And?" Harry retorted shortly.

"Well, we all know what Slytherin is like. All of the horrible people were in the Slytherin house! Look at You-Know-Who and…and Malfoy!" She cried.

Harry had had enough. He slid her off of his lap and stood up with a scowl written plainly on his face. "Ginny, there were loads of people that were horrible that weren't in Slytherin. Remember Zacharias Smith or Cormac McLaggen? At this point, you should just be happy for Al. He likes it where he is and I wish his family would support him instead of criticizing his house for the acts of a few!" He snapped angrily and turned away from her, heading towards the door.

"Harry! Where are you going?" Ginny called after him, her voice suddenly filled with a mix of sorrow and fear.

"To bed," He said in response, voice still carrying his anger.

Harry stormed up the stairs to the bedroom that he and Ginny now shared but which used to belong to Sirius. He stripped off his auror robes and pulled on his pajamas before lying down in bed, feeling some of his anger begin to ebb. The back of his head hit the pillow and he stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Ginny to come join him. It was not until about five minutes later that he realized that he had left Albus's letter in the armchair with Ginny. If she read it, she would most likely guess one of the reasons his temper had started to rise. She had mentioned Malfoy, mentioned him like he was a foul insect she'd rather step on than see if it possessed any good qualities.

Malfoy had been the source of most of their arguments over the past week. He didn't know why, but ever since that day on the Platform, he did not want anyone to talk bad about the man that had made his childhood even worse than it already had been. It made him feel the anger that had been bursting inside of him fifth year. It had all been so long ago, but now everything seemed so much more recent. Perhaps it was the fact that both his son and Malfoy's son were starting school this year. It was like both he and Malfoy were starting over through their sons, and he, Harry, through Albus was the one holding out his hand this time.

Harry chuckled darkly. Hermione had once said that Sirius had tried to live through him during that time when he was locked up in this very house. Perhaps that was what was happening now. Maybe this was their second chance to make things right. Then again, he could just be going mad. Why would Malfoy ever want to talk to him just because Albus was forcing his friendship on Scorpius? What if Malfoy had not changed? What if he was still the pompous git Harry had known him to be during Hogwarts? Harry sighed and shook his head for the second time that evening. The possibility that he ever even saw Malfoy again except perhaps at Platform 9 ¾ was very slim.

_Dear Al,_

_ Glad to hear you're making friends! Keep it up; you'll need them for whenever you are procrastinating on doing your homework. Just make sure they're smart so you can copy off of them. That's what your Uncle Ron and I did most of the time with Aunt 'Mione (don't tell her I told you that!). As for Rose, just give her some time. She'll come around. You're her favorite cousin after all. You two are attached at the hip, remember? Also, don't go letting James and Fred into your common room. I have no doubt in my mind that they will stash dungbombs and several of Uncle George's merchandise in there just to go off. _

_ Your mum and I are really proud of you for making it into Slytherin, and don't you forget it. You'll bring that house greatness, no matter what anyone says. When it comes to Scorpius Malfoy, I want you to know that I did know his father. He was in the same year as me when I was in school. We weren't really on friendly terms, but that is no reason why you shouldn't be friends with Scoripus. I'm sure he's a great kid and a wonderful friend. Oh! And don't forget to write and tell me if James made it on the Gryffindor Quidditch team! He refuses to write me himself, so make sure you tell me exactly what the little bogie is up to. _

_With all my love,_

_Dad_

_P.S. Did you remember to give Professor Longbottom our love?_


	2. A Lion Intruder

**Hey guys! I know I'm really super early with this, but I wanted to get this out here since I got so many nice reviews already. 3 This chapter is about our darling Draco and his many woes. Poor dear. Oh well. If you are concerned that he isn't, for the lack of a better term, prat-ish enough, then don't worry. This chapter is mostly about his own thoughts. You'll see him in action later. Both of these chapters I realize are rather short (though they are each nine pages in MLA format on Word...), but they are introductory chapters, so the next ones will be longer. Also, I'm thinking about not including the letters on every chapter since I don't think the boys will want to talk to their fathers that much while having fun at school. Don't worry though, they'll be there on all the important chapters. Uhm. I don't think there is anything else. Please give me your opinions and suggestions please! Next chapter will be out next week some time.**

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Chapter 2: A Lion Intruder

_Dear Father,_

_ I am writing to you to inform you that I am indeed in the House of our fathers, Slytherin. I want you to know that I am fine and am only wondering as to your well-being. I heard from some older students that there might be a chance that Mother could take me away from you. I don't want that to happen. Please make sure that I stay with you. Forgive me, but Mother is a twat. She has no love for me nor I her. She is not as enjoyable as you are any way. However, do not try too hard to keep me. I know that things are always hard for you, and I don't want to make that worse._

_ Anyhow, I also wanted to let you know that Mr. Potter's son, Albus, is in Slytherin as well. Don't worry too much at this statement. I have tried very hard to not draw attention to myself as you instructed to do, but that has not been going very well. A lot of the other students talk to me a lot, asking questions. I promise that I have not said a single word to any of them. Albus is exceptionally inquisitive though. He seems incredibly determined to be my friend, and I am sorry to say that I am beginning to crack under that smile he always seems to have. Father, what should I do?_

_With my sincerest thoughts,_

_S. H. Malfoy_

Parchment. Parchment everywhere. It littered every inch of the carpet. It was stacked in every single shelf in the room, not to mention filed away in the four large cabinets on the back wall. The worst of it was covering the desk though. Piles and piles of it, most of them not orderly at all with sticky notes pasted to some and others having their corners folded or torn off. Even the chair behind the desk was stacked with all kinds of parchment ranging from memos to formal speeches. Draco Malfoy hated parchment.

Unfortunately, this was his office. This was his mess to sort out and categorize. It was horribly dull work, and Draco usually tried to stay as far away from it as he possibly could. However, that was typically not feasible, not, at least, with the position he held in this company. His company. Draco supposed he should be proud to have made it this far, but a small part of him wished he was still working in the apothecary shop he had started out in. There, at least, there had been no paperwork for him to sort through. It had been a job completely devoted to creating potions and selling ingredients. Now if he took two miniscule days off to visit one of his shops in Dublin and make sure the potions were being brewed correctly, he came back to this chaos.

Draco took one very small step into the office and immediately heard the horrifying sound of parchment crumbling beneath his foot. He glanced down at the offending document and was actually slightly shocked to see the familiar handwriting spelling out _D. Malfoy_. He slowly removed his foot off of the letter and flicked his wand slightly, causing the letter to fly up into his free hand. Carefully, as if the letter was the most precious item in the world to him, he pealed along the seal to reveal the envelope's contents. Inside were two pieces of parchment, one of which held the short letter he had been expecting for days now from his son. The other piece of parchment was much more special.

This parchment Draco loved. Unlike all of the others that stated facts, prices, speeches, inquiries, and the occasional hate-mail, this one showed Draco everything that his son could not say in words. To anyone else, it would have been just a mere drawing done by an eleven-year-old boy with talent for drawing. They would have said it was pretty or interesting. They would never know just how much the picture really showed of the way the first year was feeling in his current predicament. The way that Draco could see each emotion behind every single scratch that the quill had made on the parchment.

The picture depicted six creatures, four of which were quite bigger in size than the other two. These four took up two-thirds of the page starting from the top right corner with the flying image of a navy blue and bronze eagle. Below this majestic bird were a snarling lion, its pelt a golden color and its mane a dark red, in the center with an angry black and yellow badger to the lion's right and a hissing green and silver snake to the lion's left. Below these four furious animals were two smaller creatures that looked rather innocent and young. The first one was a small light grey scorpion that was scrunched up as if it were extremely anxious about something. The other one was chimera: a creature who was a strange mixture of a lion, a serpent, and a goat. It was leaning forward on its front paws towards the scorpion, but instead of looking menacing like the four larger animals, the chimera was wearing this goofy grin that Draco had only seen on one individual before.

Draco shook his head and glanced up from the picture to flick his wand-hand and cause the explosion of parchment to begin to right itself into neat - though still rather large - piles according to when they were sent, how urgent the inquiry was, what type of request it was, whether or not the sender was important, and the miscellaneous trash. He watched the parchment fly about for a few moments, occasionally catching a few words flying in front of his eyes. He then took a few more steps into the room, carefully avoiding stepping on anymore parchment, his eyes still watching the progress of his magic when he caught sight of a flash of green that nearly made his heart jump into his throat. He paused for a moment and took a few needed breaths to calm himself down. It had not been the right color green anyway and it was a sticky note, just a sticky note. Not eyes. Not his dazzling, bright, beauti–

_ Don't. Don't think about him._ Draco chided himself as he finally reached his desk where the most important documents had landed and took a seat in his now empty chair.

As he went to lay his son's letter on his desk, one of the piles automatically jumped and shoved one of the other piles out of the way, so that Draco could have enough space on his desk to work while still keeping the piles in order there. Draco gazed at the picture with love in his eyes, if not in his neutral expression. This drawing told Draco what he could read in the first paragraph of his son's letter. The older students had been mocking him. Every single House, including Slytherin, had decided to mark Scorpius as their prey because he was the only student in the school whose father had the Dark Mark. Scorpius was feeling vulnerable and scared, unsure of how to deal when it seemed as if the whole school was against him. It sickened him.

And yet, Draco knew he could do nothing to help his son. No one would even think to take his, a Death Eater's, side on this, even if a small boy was in danger. All anyone would see was the spawn of evil getting what he deserved. At this thought, Draco glared up at the pile of hate-mail and, without even moving his wand, set the pile on fire. It was a controlled fire though, his anger was not explosive as it had been when he was little, now he had learned to focus it all on one point instead of letting it spread to everything around it. As soon as the pile had been reduced to ashes, the fire stopped and Draco turned back to finish his son's letter.

The anger did not come this time as he read over the words, even with the mention of the older students bothering Scorpius with their ignorant, biased questions planted in their heads by their vengeful parents. No. Even though Draco read the entire paragraph, he did not take in a single word past the name Potter. Potter and his obnoxious, arogant grin that he only displayed in front of his friends. Potter and his gorgeous green eyes that Draco could not help but be so mesmerized by that he wanted to punch the boy, now man, in the face just as an excuse to not be able to look at them anymore. Potter and his misplaced sense of heroism in all the wrong moments. Potter and–

_ Stop! Stop it, stop it, stop it! You will not think about him. You will not remember those times. You lost your chance twenty-six years ago. Understand? Get over it, Draco!_

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he took the whole of two seconds to compose himself, before informing the person that they should come in. The door opened slowly, creaking annoyingly as it went, to reveal a scrawny looking wizard with mousy hair and a handful of what appeared to be _more _parchment. "Mr. Malfoy, sir, I thought I should let you know now that you're back from your trip. We received a rather large order from the Auror Department recently and the Head Auror requested a personal meeting with you to discuss the details. I discussed your schedule with Madame Vina and she said you should be free Wednesday at three, is that alright with you? Also, you received a memo from a lawyer yesterday who has agreed to take on the case for your divorce. You'll be meeting with her at Café Pax tomorrow at ten. Her name is Attorney H. Weasley and will, I am told, be the one with the 'bushy brown hair sipping an expresso in the back corner of the café'. Any questions, sir?"

Draco listened to all of this in pure silence, knowing that even if Creevey threw in any questions into his report, he was not really intending to let his boss interrupt him at all. Usually, this would annoy him in any other employee. It was disrespectful to say the least, and Draco preferred all of his employees to fear him, if not respect him. However, Dennis Creevey was an exception. The boy had never been all that great at potion-making, it was true. However, he had a certain knack for knowing just about anything from the temperature to who was getting married. He was also a surprisingly excellent businessman and had helped build Palpable Potions up from scratch. Draco owed a lot to this former Gryffindor Potter fanboy turned Slytherin potions company vice-executive, especially since he had helped him even knowing what side of the war he had been on when his brother Colin had died.

"Yes, three. Am I still meeting with Mr. Beetleby on Friday to discuss the order of unicorn horns, what order has Auror Robards requested of us, and which Weasley am I meeting with exactly?" He asked matter-of-factly, keeping any emotion that might betray what he really thought about the three people he had just mentioned out of his tone and facial expression.

"Yes, you are. Auror _Potter_, who has been Head Auror for the past ten years, _sir_, has requested to receive ten whole cauldrons worth of our signature Invisibility Solution to give to the entire Magical Law Enforcement department as a precautionary measure. And Attorney Hermione Jean Weasley is who you will be consulting with." Draco frowned very slightly at this. Creevey was mocking him, mocking him because he had not picked up a newspaper since his father had been released from Azkaban about fourteen years prior. Draco finally shrugged in response, knowing it was no use to argue with this particular employee, and dismissed Creevey to go back to whatever he had been working on before coming to see him.

As soon as the door was shut, Draco's mask fell off to reveal just how tired he felt already about this week. A long and dull meeting with Beetleby about unicorn horns which were growing even more rare and expensive by the hour, and, of course, the two meetings he was looking forward to the least. Granger and Potter, two people he had never thought he'd see again until the week before when he had realized that they both had kids Scorpius's age. Draco had frozen with his eyes on the group of Potters while Scorpius had been saying his short goodbyes with his mother. He had stared over at the man with the lightning scar, hoping and fearing at the same time that Potter would notice him, until Potter did glance over. He had stared into those green eyes for almost too long before passing it off with a nod. Then, to his surprise Potter had nodded back.

It had taken all of his will to send Scorpius away with merely a nod goodbye and then apparate back to the Manor with Astoria. He had lasted until the very moment he had shut the door to his personal office at home to break. First, there had been a wild hysteria full of high-pitched laughter as the tiny bit of hope flared up. Potter had acknowledged his existence after all of this time. Potter had nodded to him! However, this emotion had not lasted for very long. His mother had found him two hours later curled up in a ball on the floor of his office sobbing his heart out onto the Persian rug. What was worse was that she knew immediately that it was not caused by Scorpius leaving for school. She had known exactly why her son was breaking down after so long. She had known that it was about _him_, just as she had known every single time before that.

Draco took in a deep breath and glanced down at his son's letter again. He read over the words three more times before being able to thoroughly understand what the words were actually saying, and then looked at the picture again as he began to attempt to straighten out all of the creases with his hands. The Potter boy, Albus, was the chimera with the goofy grin that he had inherited from his father. The grin that had never let a Malfoy be the subject of except as a joke to his friends until now. Albus was giving a Malfoy a chance when he had no doubt heard terrible things about the Malfoy family from his own family. Why? What was the motive behind this? Why had a _bloody _Potter ended up a Slytherin?

Pulling out a bit of blank parchment from the first drawer in his desk, Draco picked up his quill and decided that it would be better to respond to Scorpius now while he was thinking of it rather than later when he would refuse to hold a quill, much less look at a piece of parchment. Hopefully, this week would go by a lot smoother than how he was thinking it would go currently. He just would have to remind himself that he was only meeting with two members of the Gryffindor trio. As long as he did not see the Weasel while getting his usual tea, things should go decently well. Hopefully. He only wished he could write a longer letter to Scorpius to tell him just how wonderful and brave he was for being able to deal with all of the bullies. It just was not possible though. There was always the chance someone might see it and take it the wrong way. It was much better to be safe and wait until the Christmas Break.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_ I want you to know that I am very proud that you made it into Slytherin. It is the absolute best House, in my professional opinion. I am expecting great things from you, my son. Do not let me down. Remember, follow the instructions given unless your gut tells you not to. Also, do not worry yourself about being taken away by your mother. I have hired one of the best lawyers in the Wizarding World to back up my case. In fact, she is the aunt to your little follower. _

_ Speaking of whom if he certainly seems to sincerely want to be your friend, then I would say to let him. However, do not let yourself become too attached to this boy so that you will not be too hurt if he decides that you are not worth his time. Remember, he is Mr. Potter's son and so he will try to "save you" or use you as a pet project because he may or may not feel sorry for you. Make sure you let him know that you do not need his sympathy. You do not need anyone's sympathy because no matter what they might think, you are your own person and are not ruled by the faults of the past._

_Yours forever,_

_D. Malfoy_


	3. The Demanding Lioness

**So, everyone hating on Ginny is kind of making me laugh. Like, a lot. It's really funny to me because I actually really really like Ginny's character. She's a strong, independent woman that can take care of herself. Which is why she was a really good match for Harry. However, Draco is a better match, obviously. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews/favs/follows guys! It really means a lot.**

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Chapter 3: The Demanding Lioness

_Dear Dad,_

_ Rose still isn't coming around as you said she would. Everyone else is talking to me again. They seem to agree mostly with James and Fred that it is just some huge joke. I think Louis is under the impression that Professor McGonagall will be calling me into her office any day now claiming that the Sorting Hat made some sort of mistake about my placement. It is stupid and I don't agree, but if it means they'll talk to me, then I'm all for letting them believe whatever. Anyways, you won't believe what else happened this week!_

_ Scorpius started talking! I mean, he really started talking! Like, we were in Potions and I was about to chop up my gurdy root when he suddenly started babbling on about how I was doing it wrong and what the right way to do it was. Then he took my gurdy root and showed me exactly what he was saying. I really wanted him to just do the rest for me, but he wouldn't hear of it. He made me do it all by myself. Though, it wasn't that bad. He gave me all the instructions with added tips so I didn't have to read the instructions on the board. When the professor came over to see how we did, guess what she did?! She awarded Slytherin twenty points for doing so well! It was awesome!_

_ Other than that, he still doesn't say much and won't answer any of my questions about his family, even the really tiny ones like what his mum is like. I mean, really, I know he is sensitive about his dad, but even questions about his mum are out of bounds? It's kinda ridiculous. He is pretty much open to anything else though and asks a lot about you and mum. I told him that both my parents were the best quidditch players ever when they were in school and he seemed skeptical about that, so you'll have to prove me right one day, kay? Anyway, he talks all proper like and has agreed to magick all the spelling mistakes out of this letter, and all of my homework, for me. I told him to leave everything else how it was though for this letter._

_Love you lots,_

_Al_

_P.S. Quidditch tryouts are next week. James is trying out for chaser, like your dad, and Fred is trying out for keeper. They're both really nervous and I've seen them sneaking down to the pitch almost every night this week to practice. It's kinda funny to see them so freaked out, but don't tell James I said that please!_

He was flying. He was flying in the air over the city of London without a care in the world. His school trunk was attached to the broom behind him and a beautiful snowy white owl was soaring alongside him, making daring swoops and turns in the air as she went. Each flap of her majestic wings, each slight turn, sent her zooming off in another direction, egging him on to chase her. And chase her did. He pressed forward slightly on the broom handle and he, the broom, and the trunk darted towards the buildings after the bird.

The city nightlife sung its own song of woes and happiness, stress and relief, as the owl and her master flew seemingly invisible among it. Leaning back on his Firebolt, Harry let out a booming laugh as he continued to chase Hedwig through the city. She hooted cheerfully at the noise emanating from her master and flapped her wings once before swooping grandly to make a turn around the edge of a building. Harry followed easily, even making a roll in the air as he did so just because he could.

When he brought his broom back up to the level it had been, he glanced around, expecting to see the snowy owl just in front of him. She was gone though. The street was deserted of all life besides him. Nervous now, he cautioned his broom forward and nearly jumped back in fright when the street lamps and the lights in the buildings suddenly began to disappear as if Ron had just used his deluminator. Harry was left in complete darkness, floating in midair with nowhere to turn to.

Slowly, the darkness creates the cold and the cold envelopes him like a cold dead hand of a dementor. He is shivering now, freezing to the bone and frightened out of his mind. Where were they? Why the cold, but not the screams? Harry could not fathom what was going on. Surely he would be able to sense them as he normally did? After all, even muggles can at least sense the beasts.

He heard a whistling noise and a crack, and then the lights flashed on again to reveal four broomsticks racing past on either side of him. Red and green wandlight was flashing between the various brooms, aimed at their riders. Harry could not make out who was on what broom, but he had a sickly feeling that he had seen this before. He turned his eyes away from the dueling wizards and focused his thoughts on the Firebolt beneath him.

He was flying again. This time was not like the last though. All the happiness had drained out of him as surely as if a dementor really had passed. Passing building after building, Harry rose into the air, feeling the need to break free from the city. Each passing stoplight sent him forward. If only he could get up there into the free air, he could find Hedwig and escape the cold terror this night had turned into.

Harry had almost reached the top of the next building, the wind fighting each and every one of his movements, when he heard a cry of an owl, but not just any owl. It was Hedwig's scream that deadened the night. He looked back, trying to see some sign of her. Anything. Even just one white feather would do. Where was she? Where was his precious bird? Nowhere. She wasn't there. Or anywhere. She was dead, dead like Fred – another scream pierced the air –, dead like Colin and Remus and Tonks and everybody. The sky's ink black color seemed to be seeped in red as the air around him yelled out in the voices of the dead, taunting and blaming him.

Harry breached the city's height limit finally and glanced around in fear. There was nothing and no one up here. It was just him, all alone. He was the only one left, and no one could save him anymore. He turned around as he suddenly heard movement, not daring to believe or hope that there could be one other. There, approaching him in the darkness was a man that was flying. Literally, flying. He did not have a broom or anything. Harry swallowed hard and stared at the approaching figure, thinking hard that it was Voldemort. It could be no one else.

The figure reached him and Harry jerked forward on his broom, hoping to catch the cloaked man off guard so that he would fall to his death. Instead, he stood straight up in midair, his hood falling off of his head. It wasn't Voldemort. It wasn't even Snape. It was Draco Malfoy.

Harry woke up drenched in sweat. He was lying in the bed he shared with Ginny, and Hedwig and the rest had been dead for nineteen years. If it had been the year after the Battle of Hogwarts or even two or three years after the Battle, then this dream would be understandable. He had often had nightmares about the dead coming back to haunt him or reliving some of the worst moments of that horrible seventh year. Harry had long since come to terms with the deaths of his loved ones though, so this dream didn't make sense.

He sighed and shook his head before rolling over and planting his face in the pillow, intent on going back to sleep so he could have a normal dream to replace the nightmarish one. However, it was then that he heard the loud banging echoing throughout the house from the front door. Knowing it was probably someone that would forgive him eventually for all the stupid things he does, Harry took his pillow and smashed it over his head to try and block out the loud knocking.

It took a few more moments, but then the knocking ceased. Harry let out a sigh of relief, thinking that Ginny must have answered the door for him. Everything was silent for all of about five seconds before Harry heard yelling coming from the ground floor.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER –"

"MUDBLOODS! BLOODTRAITORS! SCOUNDRELS! STAINING THE–"

"–OUT OF BED RIGHT–"

"–OF MY FOREFATHERS!"

"Oh, SHUT UP, you old hag!"

Harry pulled at his sheets until they completely covered his entire body, from head to foot. He did not want to see the woman that was certainly on her way up the stairs after successively covering Mrs. Black's portrait with her curtain. He was absolutely positive that she was angry at him from the way she had shouted, and when she was angry at anyone, people tended to leave the country just to escape her wrath.

He counted fifteen precious seconds of his life before the door to his bedroom burst open to reveal Hermione, her work robes slightly disheveled from hurrying over here from wherever, wearing a terrifying, at least to Harry, grin on her face. She rushed over and pulled the sheets down and away from him, leaving him to try and cover his bare body parts as if he were a little girl. Hermione just rolled her eyes and pointed to the closet.

"Honestly, Harry. I've known you for twenty-six years; I've seen you in your pants at least a million times. Now get dressed. It's almost noon, and you're starving your daughter of precious father-daughter time." She scolded playfully, just serving to frighten Harry even more. What had he done that was this bad?

Harry reluctantly got to his feet, walking the long way around the bed to avoid Hermione's hitting and or kicking range. She still had her wand, but Harry was reasonably sure she wouldn't use that on him. At least, she had never been that angry at him. The only one she ever got that angry at was Ron and he had completely mastered the use of the shield charm over the years just for such times. Harry's wand, however, was lying on his nightstand looking perfectly innocent at the fact that it was of no use to him in his present predicament. Giving up on all hope of getting out of this without any bruises marring his skin, Harry trudged over to his closet and pulled on a loose t-shirt and some mostly clean jeans.

Once he was finished pulling all of his clothes on, he glanced at the mirror, rubbed a hand through his hair, and shrugged, giving up on the mess before even putting forth any effort. It wasn't like he was going to go anywhere special today anyway. He then followed Hermione down the stairs and into the kitchen where Kreacher was busy making lunch with Lily watching intently, asking questions every now and then as to what he was doing and why. It made Harry smile to see how well Lily managed around Kreacher on a daily basis, but his feelings were nothing to Hermione's. She was positively beaming to see the youngest Potter treating a house-elf like a human.

However, Harry was under the impression that Kreacher did not particularly enjoy Lily's company. Sure, ever since Harry had given him Regulus's locket, he had been marvelous and had only ever slipped by calling Hermione a mudblood a few times. Kreacher, though, was getting old. Anyone with half a mind could see that. That being said, having a nine-year-old pepper him with questions about how he goes on with his daily routine must be incredibly tiring for him, not to mention a bit irritating.

"Kreacher, why don't I take over and you go get some rest? I can send Lupa to help you clean the drawing room in a bit, if you would like." Harry broke in while Hermione took a seat at the kitchen table and picked up this morning's _Daily Prophet _that Ginny had obviously left abandoned. She clucked her tongue at Harry's words, but otherwise stayed silent. Harry knew why. When Kreacher's daughter Lupa was born, Hermione had been adamant that she be the first house-elf born free. However, Kreacher had been against it from the start and Harry was not going to argue with the father in this situation. Harry had tried to compromise with Hermione though by giving both Kreacher and Lupa vacation days and any form of salary that they wished to have, both of which Kreacher resented. She had let it drop since then because of this, but Harry knew she still disapproved of Harry owning Lupa.

Kreacher turned towards Harry and, there was no other word to describe the look, glared straight at his master. Grimacing, he shuffled over to sit across from Hermione. The house-elf was undoubtedly getting old, that much was true, but he still believed strongly in the fact that he would work in the Great and Noble House of Black until the day he died, though at least he had given up on the notion of having his head cut off and stuck to the wall. He knew Harry was never ever going to do that.

"So, err, 'Mione? Why are you, err, here?" He asked none too gracefully as Lily skipped over to sit beside her father after hugging her aunt tightly.

"Oh, Harry! You won't believe where I was this morning! It was so hard to keep it from you and Ron, but I didn't want to say anything in case it went wrong somehow, and just wow! It was simply unbelievable! You just don't understand–" Hermione gushed happily, not making a word of sense to a very confused and victimized Harry. He was beginning to think he might not be in trouble after all.

"Hermione! For Merlin's beard, slow down. What are you on about?" He interrupted, pulling the newspaper away from her so she could look straight at him while she was talking.

"Malfoy, Harry. Malfoy!" She explained unhelpfully.

Thoroughly bewildered at what Malfoy, of all people, had to do with anything, especially Hermione's happiness, Harry just shook his head and looked at her with something akin to exasperation. Lily piped up before Harry or Hermione could speak again though. "Al is friends with a Malfoy. He says he's really really nice and helps him with his homework all the time."

Both of the adults stared at Lily in shock with Harry recovering first since this information was mostly not new to him. However, Hermione nearly choked on air at the prospect of her nephew being friends with a Malfoy. "H-how?" She gasped out after a few more moments of shocked silence.

Harry folded his arms and stared at her with eyes that dared her to judge his son as he said simply, "Albus is a Slytherin."

Hermione, surprisingly, just relaxed into her chair and murmured her gratitude to Kreacher as he placed a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich in front of her. When seeing the incredulous look on Harry's face, she smiled and chuckled a bit. "Oh, Harry. Don't you see? This is perfect. I was going to have to prolong the court date until after the winter holidays so I could see what Scorpius was like and now I don't have to! I'll just get Al to tell me." She said as if that completely explained her reactions.

"Her. Mion. E." he pronounced her name slowly and clearly so she would actually pay attention to him for once instead of whatever was going on in her head. "Why are you here and what does that have to do with Draco Malfoy and a court date?" He stated clearly what he wanted this time, hoping to Merlin that she would actually fully explain this time.

"Well, Harry, obviously I have a new client. Draco Malfoy is that client. You see, I was having a nice chat with Katie about which quidditch team looked good enough for the cup this year, and before you ask, Katie was doing most of the talking. I was reading over her last case for her, you know proofreading and all of that." Hermione had finally begun to explain, and so Harry settled down for a long story with his soup and sandwich while Lily got out a piece of parchment and some crayons to draw with while eating her sandwich.

"Anyway, Katie was going on about how the Hornets might have a chance, but the Irish had been doing terrible for years ever since their last team retired, and of course, the Cannons were definitely going to be bottom of the charts again. None of this mattered much to me, of course, but it was who came in while she was talking that mattered. Guess who it was? Never mind, you'd never guess. I'll just tell you. It was Dennis Creevey! Little Dennis Creevey, do you remember him? Muggleborn and absolute fan of you at Hogwarts?

"Oh, but I'm getting off track. Dennis is now the vice-executive to a huge company and I was so proud of him to find that out, especially after his brother's death during the Battle. This corporation though is run by none other than Draco Malfoy and Dennis was there seeking help for his boss. Really! It was crazy to think that our little Dennis was now working for Malfoy of all people. Anyway, Dennis was there to recruit someone to handle a case on Malfoy's side and said that, even though Malfoy had said to get anyone he could, he personally thought that I should be the one to do it.

"Well, obviously I accepted to at least speak with Malfoy, I mean a client is still a client, right? However, I was still very skeptical about the whole thing. Malfoy had not been in the papers at all since the small announcement of his son and to think that he needed a lawyer now, made me wonder if he had quite turned everything around as the world thought he had. I thought to myself that I would at least give him a chance to speak for himself though, and that is why I have waited until now to rush off to you and Ron about it all." By this point, Lily and Harry had both finished their meals and Lily's head was slowly sinking toward the dining table, completely bored by this adult talk, though even Harry was on the point of almost nodding off. If she didn't get to her point soon, he might just fall asleep on the table.

"So I naturally wanted to meet with him straight away after stopping by the library to look up a bit more about the Malfoy family. Dennis, though happy that I had accepted, said that his boss was out of town on urgent business and urged me to schedule a meeting with him later. We worked out a date and time that suited both of us and that was where I was this morning. You won't believe how much he has changed! I mean, I had assumed, well, you know me, I had to know everything after seeing him at the platform, that he had done well for himself, but that wasn't all. By instinct, I had been braced for the snotty prat that we both knew at school, but the man that came through the door to the tea shop couldn't have been anything less than polite.

"He shook my hand – stop looking like the Dark Mark is sitting above my head, Harry; I am not joking – and practically bowed to me before taking his seat. It was really a rather impressive greeting for someone that used to be so rotten that I had to resort to common violence to get even with. At first we exchanged some rather meager comments about how each of us was getting along and if the weather was going to look any better sometime soon, but after all the small talk was out of the way, Malfoy presented me with a file that contained everything about his case that he had currently.

"Harry, everything about this man down to the brand of his shoes screamed Draco Malfoy. However, the demeanor in which he greeted me and what this case was about was anything but the boy we once knew. I was expecting a case involving the use of illegal curses or at the very least threatening someone's life. No, this was a divorce case. Harry, Draco Malfoy is getting a divorce and he wants me to help him! Me! A muggleborn! He was so desperate for help, that he even would allow someone with no magical blood to get him through this. And you won't believe what else. Malfoy only was concerned about losing one thing in the divorce, none of the rest mattered to him. Guess what that one thing was? Just guess."

Harry blinked several times as his brain struggled to catch up with what Hermione was jabbering about. He still had no real idea why she was here waking him up just to tell him about Draco _bloody_ Malfoy when it was his day off and he was desperate to get back to bed. Finally, he just shrugged and responded with the first two things that came to mind, "I don't know, Hermione. The manor? His fortune?"

Hermione's grin widened even more at his answer, leading Harry to assume that he had given exactly what she had thought he would. "That's just it though, Harry. He didn't care if Astoria, that's his wife's name by the way, got all of that. He simply didn't care, just as long as he got to keep his son. Scorpius was the only thing in the divorce that he cared enough to fight with Astoria about, and, Harry, you won't believe how passionate he got when he talked about his son. It was like I was talking to a completely different person, a person that truly and completely cared for a fellow human being enough to give up everything for that person."

This time Hermione paused long enough in her story that Harry was finally able to interrupt. "Hermione, really, this sounds great and all about how Malfoy has changed, but what does this have to do with me exactly?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, a tapping sounded on the window. All three of them looked up to see James's owl Reddit hovering outside with a letter addressed to Harry. Harry got up and let the bird in. Reddit held out his foot eagerly so that Harry could remove the letter. As soon as he was free of his burden, the owl flew to the corner of the counter where the water and owl treats were always kept and Lily followed him, intent on playing with the bird. Sitting down again, Harry pealed open Albus's letter and began to read. When he was finished, he looked up to see Hermione's excited expression staring straight at him. "Err, did you need something?" He muttered uneasily.

"That letter is from Al, isn't it? Does it say anything about Scorpius?"

"Err, maybe. Why?"

"It does, doesn't it? Does it say anything about Malfoy or even Astoria?"

"That's none of your business. Hey!" Harry said as Hermione stole the letter out of his hands and began to read it. "That's personal, Hermione! Not to mention, I bet it's illegal to read other people's mail without their permission!"

"Oh, whatever. I used to read all of your mail, remember? Anyway, this isn't too personal; though don't go blaming me for Rose being a prat. She's been brainwashed by Ron for years against anything having to do with Slytherin. This thing about Astoria, however, is very interesting to me. I mean, I understand Scorpius wanting to be quiet about his father what with all the rumors most likely floating around Hogwarts, but Astoria's record is clean. Unless he really has been trained to not reveal anything too personal…no, wait. I think I have something. Though I need a trip to the–"

"–library" Harry finished for her before taking his letter back and continuing, "Hermione, can you say what you want from me please so you can leave and I can write back to Al before going back to my bed?"

"You really shouldn't spend all day in bed. It's not good for your health," She began, but seeing the look on Harry's face, she slumped her shoulders and gave in. "Oh, alright. I want you to tell Al to keep getting to know Scorpius to try and find out at least how he feels about his parents, especially which one he likes better. I also want a teeny tiny favor from you, if that is alright. I would ask Ron, but he would check me into St. Mungo's just for thinking about it. Can you uhm maybe get to know Malfoy, as a friend, I mean? It's been so long and I really would like to know the real Malfoy for this case, but I can't do that because I am both his lawyer and a married woman. This needs a man's touch. You understand, right?" She finished basically pleading with him to see why he should do as she wishes.

Harry just stared at her for a few moments, thinking that he had clearly misheard her. There was no possible way that Hermione would be asking him to try and be friends with Malfoy. Merlin's pants! Hadn't he just been having a row with Ginny a couple of days ago just about Harry thinking that Malfoy might have changed and Slytherin wasn't all bad? What would she think if he suddenly was making plans to hang out with the blond? It was completely absurd. No. He must have heard Hermione wrong. She wasn't asking that. She couldn't be.

"Just...just think about it, okay?" He heard Hermione say before she got up and patted him on the back of his hand before taking her leave. He was tempted to call her back, to get her to say he had indeed heard her wrong. However, he just let her go as the full weight of her request settled in the pit of his stomach with the remains of his lunch.

_Dear Al,_

_ Firstly, I would like to say that your Aunt Hermione is completely and irrevocably insane. Unluckily for us, she is also incredibly demanding and used to getting her way. No one except Grandma Molly is allowed to argue with her. This being said, I would like to tell you that I had nothing to do with this. At all. None of it is my fault. I take no blame. None. Anyway, your Aunt Hermione would like you to try and continue to push your way into finding out how Scorpius feels about his parents. She is helping his dad, if that is any excuse. _

_ Don't worry. You aren't the only one being forced to do things that go against your normal routine by Aunt Hermione. She has me making friendly get-togethers with Scorpius's father. That should go real well. Remember how I said we weren't on best of terms in school? Yeah, that was the understatement of the century, kiddo. Mr. Malfoy and I hated each other. Literally, we nearly killed each other in our sixth year, the hatred was so bad. Don't think too badly of me though, okay? It was forever ago and those were different times. At least, I'm choosing to look at Scorpius separate from his father, right?_

_ So, great job on making a friend that is good at potions and good luck with your assignment from Aunt Hermione. As for Rose, Aunt Hermione blames Uncle Ron for brainwashing her into thinking all things Slytherin are bad. Give her just a bit more time, but maybe try and prove to her, in really small ways, that you are still the same old Al even if your colors are green and silver._

_Always thinking of you,_

_Dad_

_P.S. Don't blame me too much, okay? I still love you, and Mr. Malfoy and I were stupid boys with a family feud. Who knows? Maybe Aunt Hermione's plan will work and I really will be friends with him after all this time. Not really counting on it though._

* * *

**So, I would like to say that I love Hermione, I really do. However, this chapter was supposed to have both of Draco's meetings with Harry and Hermione in it. Instead, Hermione wouldn't stop talking and I had to cut it so it wasn't too freaking long. I think I'll like to see Draco's POV of the second meeting anyway. As always, please please please tell me what you guys think! I'll have the next one up next week hopefully!**


	4. The Lion and the Dragon

**Sorry! I'm so sorry. Have I mentioned that I'm a college student? Yeah. I'm a college student. But that doesn't really give me an excuse because this was the week that everything was due and I should've had this up forever ago. Anyway, hope you guys like it! Uhm, just as a clarification, Fred and George Weasley's Patronuses were a hyena and a coyote respectively (or at least, that is something that I found...not sure if it is actually canon or not), so that is why Fred Jr.'s picture is of a hyena.**

* * *

Chapter 4: The Lion and the Dragon

_Dear Father,_

_ I am completely and utterly sorry for going against your wishes over the past couple of days. You see, I have found that I am not able to control my emotions as well as I would like around one family in particular. This family, of course, belongs to Albus Potter. It seems that the majority of the family has chosen to forgive Albus for being a Slytherin; a notion, by the way, that I find completely ridiculous. What is there to forgive, anyway? Albus got into the best house at Hogwarts and his Gryffindor-obsessed family feels that was wrong. It is extremely ignorant and biased on their part, and if anything, they are the ones that deserve Albus's forgiveness instead of the other way around. _

_ However, Albus, being the kind-hearted person that he is, fully forgave them for their stupidity. This means, of course, that now Albus is always surrounded by the billions of Potters and Weasleys, and since I have taken to always be with Albus everywhere he goes, I am always surrounded by them as well. Most of them only stop by to say hello every now and then, but two of them are with us all the time, it seems. These are Albus's older brother James and his cousin Fred. Both of these think they are extremely funny and that they can make a joke out of anything, including me. Usually they are just light jokes, but I am sorry to say that whenever they bring up you in one of them, I snap at them rather angrily. They are rude and deserve to be punished._

_ Albus is always on my side of every little argument with them, which makes me cheerful in ways I could have never imagined. James and Fred even made a joke out of that though, calling me Albus's pet snake. I find it rude and degrading, but Albus insists that they do not mean anything by it. At this point, I have decided to simply learn to live with the constant presence of the Gryffindor jesters, as I have taken to calling them in my mind, and hope to Merlin that they will one day get bored of teasing Albus and I. Until then, I will be continuing to wonder to myself if calling Albus my friend was a mistake or not._

_With my sincerest heart,_

_S. Malfoy_

"Are you ready?"

"No,"

"Yes, you are,"

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because you need to know that you are,"

"And what if I am not?"

"Then you will straighten up, leave your emotions in the Manor, and go to work because–"

"–because I am a Malfoy, correct?"

"Exactly,"

Draco glanced over to where his mother stood by the door and let out a minor groan followed by an exasperated expression. She was standing there with her knowing smile pasted onto her face but her arms were crossed tightly to exemplify how stubborn she was planning to become if he tried to argue with her logic. Defeated before he had really even started, Draco looked back down to the mess he had made of his desk.

His briefcase sat completely empty except for two emerald green quills on the floor beside the desk where he had last placed it. He had been packing, unpacking, and repacking his bag for approximately two hours after taking three hours deciding which set of robes to wear. His hair was sticking up in places he had not even known existed and his face was clouded by pale blond stubble. Yes, he was a right mess but he couldn't help it. Today was the day he was going to have to actually talk to Potter for the first time in nineteen years. It was nerve wracking to say the least.

Shaking his head, Draco knelt down to pick up the quills and his briefcase before placing the quills carefully in a side pocket of the bag. Then, he put the bag on his chair and began to pick up various things from the pile that had collected on his desk to put back into the briefcase. When it was beginning to get full from the stacks of paperwork and folders, he took out his wand and enlarged the inside to be able to fit the rest of the contents splattered all over the top of his desk. Once everything was completely put back into the briefcase in its very precise and organized order for the twelve time that morning, Draco looked up again to find that his mother was still staring at him.

"Did you have something else to say?" He asked, becoming rather annoyed at her presence.

"I just wanted to add that you do have the ability to pull this off, my son. After all, if Mr. Potter's kindness has taught me anything, it is that everyone deserves a second chance and he will always be willing to give someone that." She breathed out fondly, as if she were thinking of some sort of good times that had never existed to Draco's knowledge.

"Well, it is too bad I am on at least my third chance then, isn't it? Even the great Harry Potter has his limit on how much 'kindness' he can give someone." He spat back, blood boiling at the very suggestion she was making. How dare she? He was already nervous enough with the thought of even being able to talk cordially with Potter and now she was adding on this rubbish. It would drive him mad.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, recall your manners at once or I will set Lucius on you and your Dennis Creevey can meet with Mr. Potter instead." She flared up, instantly irritated as she always was when he decided to act like a spoiled brat.

"My apologies, Mother," He muttered, looking at his feet as he internally scorned the way she had so much control in this household that was legally owned by him now that Lucius was not in any state to do so. He was also despising how she had seen straight through him to that fact that though he was frightened at the prospect of meeting with Potter, he was not going to let anyone else take his place in the matter. But then again, she was Narcissa Malfoy, and Narcissa Malfoy always knew everything.

"Good, now look up at me and stand very still. Do not even blink," She commanded and he obeyed without question. She took out her wand from the inside of her sleeve and performed a fancy wrist movement that Draco had never been able to figure out. Sure enough, within moments he could feel magic slicing off the stubble, refastening his cloak, tightening his tie, and even correctly tying his shoes for him. His hair lay flat again and a sleek silver ribbon appeared to tie the long ends back and out of the way; even the one strand that usually caused him trouble along his forehead was hidden within the rest of his pale hair. He was emasculate again and now had no excuse not to leave the Manor at this very instant.

"Thank you, Mother. I will be going now." He began to move, picking up his briefcase and heading towards the door. When he reached the threshold, his mother reached out and caught his sleeve to stop him.

"Draco, remember that time has passed. It has been nearly two decades now, so do not imagine that he will be the same person you once knew but also remember that he is the same person and therefore, you share a past that cannot be forgotten." Her voice sounded almost desperate, as if this information that she was passing along was the most important thing he could possibly understand. However, it just sounded like a load of codswallop to him.

Pulling his sleeve out of her grasp, he took a few more steps until he was through the door and away from her reach. "Yes, of course. I will keep that in mind. I'll see you for dinner tonight, Mother." And with that, he left the Manor and apparated to his company, the sight of which just made his already upset stomach furious.

The building was several stories tall and made to look a lot like a modern Muggle skyscraper. All four sides were completely made of glass with the corners embellished with the silver of steel. At the very top of the building, all four corner converged into a point giving the building the impression of looking like a elongated glass pyramid, an image of power so to speak. On the ground floor, the door was one of those that the muggles love that slide open as one gets close to it. Creevey had assured Draco that this was essential when building a skyscraper in the middle of muggle London. Draco had only objected a small bit, but despite being the executive, his opinion ultimately hadn't mattered.

Right above the entryway was a simple sign written in his formal script, though magnified at least a thousand times by the builders. The sign read Palpable Potions, the name for the company that Creevey and he had settled on after at least a month of debating. However, if any muggle were to read the sign, all they would see are the words Costly Cures, a name that typically kept them away from the place even without any wards. This was, of course, essential because wards for a building in downtown London were extremely expensive and required Ministry supervision, neither of which Draco wished to deal with.

However, occasionally they got the random muggle psycho or the rich businessman with a child that was ill and wanted the best medications available in the lobby. This meant that they had to keep the lobby itself as muggle-like as possible and have all of the magical qualities about the building be in every floor above. So far, this had managed to keep nearly every close call to a basic minimum, except for that one time around three months ago that a muggle woman had refused to be told that this place did not hold the answer for her sickly son and had managed to end up on the third floor. This had been a disaster because the third and fourth floors were where potions testing went on.

That had been the second time that the Ministry had had to step in to Palpable Potions. They had easily subdued the woman, cleared her memory, sent her to St. Mungo's just in case the potions had effected her system, and then let her go home to her sickly son. They were very calm throughout the whole thing and laughed it off when he and Creevey had tried to apologize for what had happened, saying that it was just to be expected with their choice of location and career. The first time, where they had come in to check and make sure Draco Malfoy would be able to run an upstanding company without sending poisons to every high-ranking Ministry employee, had been far more annoying.

Draco stepped through the sliding glass doors and was proud to think that he did not flinch this time. However, that might have been due to the large amount of nerves floating around in his stomach that would not allow even muggle things to interfere with its torture. As the doors slid closed behind him, he walked slowly up to the front desk, dreading the fact that each step brought him closer to the time that he would have to meet with the Savior of the Wizarding World. Blinking away that thought, he glanced down at the woman sitting behind the desk and grimaced at the way she was smiling at him. The smile reminded him uncannily of his mother.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. Are you feeling well today? You look slightly pale." Ms. Rosetta Carlton nearly purred around that horrible smile that would have sent shivers down his spine had he been in his right state of mind.

"I am always pale, Ms. Carlton, and I am feeling perfectly well. There is no need for your concern. I merely wished to let you know that Head Auror Potter will be paying us a visit around three. I am not to be disturbed at all today unless it is Vesper with my tea order or to inform me that Auror Potter has arrived. I do expect a notification of that second bequest, as I am sure you understand." He spoke in a cool manner that betrayed nothing of how he was feeling inside. He was, as always, completely perfect at hiding his emotions. Just as a Malfoy should be, as his mother had reminded him this morning.

Ms. Carlton merely nodded at his words, continuing to smile that incessantly creepy smile. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Everything will be in order as you prefer it. Is Mr. Creevey an exception to that rule as usual?" The smile grew into an almost grin at this last question, betraying what was no secret to Draco nor the rest of the company: the fact that nearly every worker preferred Mr. Creevey's personality and attitude towards life to Mr. Malfoy's, though they pretty much all agreed that Draco was the better looking of the two. It was only the fact that Draco liked to keep to himself more that kept him from earning most of the admirers, not that he actually cared what his employees thought of him.

Draco let a slight smirk grace his face at the question she never failed to pose to him every single day. He paused for a few moments, as if he needed time to think it over, before answering as he always did, "I am afraid that if Mr. Creevey were not an exception, he would melt into a pool of misery at having to go a single day without seeing my flawless features, and we cannot have that, can we?"

"I suppose not, sir." She finished the routine with a soft chuckle as Draco started on his way towards the lift that would take him up to the seventh floor where his and Creevey's offices were stationed.

The lift opened up and stepped out onto the light blue carpeted floor of the hallway. His personal secretary Madame Vina, who was French down to her ankles, was sitting behind her desk which was situated in between two solid oak doors, each door belonging, of course, to the executive and vice-executive respectively. She glanced up at him as she heard him approaching and raised one finely tuned eyebrow. "You do realize that it is nearly noon, don't you, Mr. Malfoy? Why, even Mr. Creevey has been here for since ten." She commented sourly, having an equal dislike for both of the executives but usually experiencing her daily joy from being able to predict what each of them will do in every situation.

"Yes, thank you for the information Madame Vina, though I really had no need of it because I had realized the time." He muttered as he passed her and open the door into his office where another day of work waited for him.

He entered the room and his hawthorn wand was out in moments, making the familiar swishing movements in order for the countless amounts of parchment to sort themselves according to his various categories once more. Draco closed the door behind him and then sank down onto the floor with his head between his knees. It was noon. It was already noon and Potter would be here at three. That is three hours. Three hours separating him from the meeting with his childhood rival. He should have just stayed home, called in sick or said that Astoria had demanded he spend the day with her. Anything but to be here with the knowledge that he was going to have to speak to Potter in the matter of hours.

Potter. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. The Savior of the Wizarding World. Whatever his title was to the outside world, he would always be Potter to Draco. Potter, who had turned down his friendship on the train all those years ago. Potter, who spoke Parseltongue so well even Draco had once believed he might be the Heir of Slytherin. Potter, who had been able to fly on a hippogriff that had turned around and attacked Draco. Potter, who had survived several encounters with the most powerful Dark Wizard of their age and then grew up to finish him off while Draco cowardly hid in the shadows of the wrong side. Potter, who had saved Draco's life multiple times without needing to be thanked once. Potter, who had held his...

_ No!_ Draco got to his feet and made his way over to his desk where he sat down and stared at the first piece of parchment that came before his eyes, as if daring it to say a single word about the man he had just been thinking about. Unluckily enough for him, it was a heavy envelope from his mother.

_Dear Draco darling,_

_ I hope your attitude has improved marvelously from when you left approximately ten minutes ago, and if it has not, well...you know the consequences. Anyway, I am writing to you to send you Scorpius's letter. It arrived just a few moments after you apparated, I'm afraid. Now, love. I hope you don't mind, but I had a read of the letter and I have to say, that if Scorpius can put up with the entire brood of Potters and Weasleys, you should be able to put up with at least a single Potter. Remember to play nice, and if all goes well, invite him to dinner tonight. I will make sure the house-elves fix up a wonderous feast filled with all of his favorites. Send me a list of those sometime today, okay love? All I can remember currently is treacle tart. _

_Your doting mother,_

_N. Malfoy_

Draco let out an audible groan at his mother's words and let his forehead fall into his palm with his elbow propped up on the desk. Wonderful. His mother knew how horrible he was feeling just about the idea of seeing Potter again, much less talking to him. Now, she was planning a dinner party? At the Manor? Potter would never accept. What was more was the fact that his father would never accept. A Potter in Malfoy Manor was the worst idea imaginable, and his mother just expected him to pose it to a man he would be speaking to strictly about business?

He shook his head and tossed aside his mother's letter where it floated off to start a completed pile. Then he gently pulled out Scorpius's letter and read it through at least three times before smiling widely and actually letting out a bit of a chuckle. Gryffindor jesters. Of course, he could just see it now. James Potter and Fred Weasley were most likely just another pair of Weasley twins running around Hogwarts. Oh, he bet they were best friends with Peeves and had been in more detentions with the new caretaker than the rest of the school combined already.

To think, his son was spending the majority of his time with Gryffindors. Well, he had to admit that he had guessed that most of the population of the Slytherins were probably told to keep far away from the young Malfoy for fear of losing the already brittle reputations they currently held. However, he had never in his life thought that his son would make friends with Potter's kid, much less be surrounded by the entire Golden Family as an almost equal. It was unnerving to say the least.

He carefully folded up the letter and placed it back onto the wood of his desk before picking up the drawing that Scorpius always put on a second piece of parchment. This time, the animal depictions of his son and his new found friend were no where to be seen. Instead, the entire piece of parchment was taken up by a picture of a stag standing next to a hyena. The stag was chestnut brown with almond colored eyes though its horn shown a bright gold color. The hyena was red with brown spots and bright blue eyes. These two were obviously meant to portray James Potter and Fred Weasley.

All of this did not surprise him, though the drawing, as always, impressed him with Scorpius's skill. No, what did surprise him also made him furious. He felt as if the drawing might burst into flames in his hands if he looked at it anymore. It was a beautiful drawing, but this one would not get framed with the others. This one would be put up separately so that Draco would be able to use it to talk to Scorpius over the winter break. Then this one would be tossed into the fireplace so that he could watch it shrivel up and turn into ashes.

_ Death Eater_. Those words would always haunt him. Everywhere he went, he could still feel the stares and hear the whispers about him and his family. It had been terrible when Scorpius was still very young, because Draco was afraid to take him anywhere in case someone decided to steal the child from him to serve him right because his family and his _side_ had taken a child from them. At that point, it had only been the name of Greengrass that had spared the Malfoys more hardship than they had ever experienced. The betrothal had been met with surprisingly little hostility from the press, assuming, correctly for once, that the Malfoys were trying desperately to redeem themselves by marrying off into a respectable family.

It had not been until the birth of his son that the press had started to hone in on the Malfoys again, looking for any sign that they might be secretly raising the boy as the next Dark Lord. Scorpius had grown up in a protected sphere, never leaving the Manor except with Astoria or Draco's newfound friend Dennis Creevey beside him. When Palpable Potions became a hit was when Draco finally ventured out into the daylight again. However, even nineteen years later, the public had not given up on blaming the last of the Death Eaters for the torture their families had gone through.

The proof of this was sitting before him in a talk bubble coming from the mouth of the hyena, spouting the words Draco hated so much. Angrily, he folded the picture back up and put both it and the letter back inside of the envelope. Then, he put the envelope into his briefcase and shook his head to clear it. Thankfully, as if knowing his presence was needed, Arthur Vesper appeared with his Earl Grey tea with two packets of sugar and two blueberry scones.

Vesper left quickly, not wanting to stay too long in Draco's presence, and Draco was left alone again. He cooled his temper down to normal irritation as he stirred the sugar into his tea, enjoying the way the sugar crystals swirled among the murky depths before dissolving altogether. He picked up the china and sipped his tea slowly, letting the hot liquid scald the inside of his throat as it sunk down to his stomach. Satisfied, Draco set the cup down for the moment and pulled the next sheet of parchment close to him to inspect its contents.

"Mr. Malfoy, Auror–"

"Did you just say _Malfoy?_"

"Of course, Auror Potter. Mr. Malfoy is the executive for Palpable Potions."

"No, he's not."

"I'm afraid he is, now can I get back to giving my report _please?_"

"Oh, err, sure,"

"Mr. Malfoy, Auror Potter, as you can hear, has arrived. Should I send him straight up to see you?"

Draco stared at Ms. Carlton's face in his fire for a few moments as he processed the conversation he had just overheard. Potter hadn't known it was Draco he was coming to see? What did that mean? His voice had not sounded happy at all. Did that mean this meeting that Draco had been dreading for the past few days would go horribly wrong after all? Did it mean that Potter would have gone straight to a different potions company had he known Draco was the one running this one?

"Send him up, Ms. Carlton. However, make sure that he knows where his manners lie before you do so. We do not accept judgmental clients here, even if they are Ministry employees." He responded coolly before cutting off the firecall.

Potter was here. Potter was in his building. Potter had not known Draco would be here. Potter. Draco cringed and fought with himself to stay calm. He would not break down here, not here where everyone knew him for being strict and practically emotionless with the exception of the excellently placed sarcasm. He shoved aside a pile of paperwork to find his wand hiding under a letter from a client in Siberia about a cure for dragonpox. Draco picked it up and flicked it hard, sending all of the parchment that was still littered all over his room into filing cabinets that appeared out of thin air. His office would look its best for Potter's arrival, if nothing else.

A knock sounded on his door and he answered for the person to come in. The door swung open and there he was. His hair was just as terribly messy as usual, sticking up in every direction possible that just made Draco's hands itch to run through it. He was nearly positive that it would be as soft as or softer than his fur coat at home. Then below that mop of hair were those stunning green eyes hidden behind those same old round spectacles that he remembered vividly glaring at him from across the Great Hall at Hogwarts all those years ago. That was where everything else fell apart. He was no longer the scrawny boy he had known as a child. Potter was tall now, possibly even the same height as he was, and his body had filled out in a way that Draco's slender form never could.

Yes, his mother had been right. This was undoubtedly Potter, but this was also a man that had aged nearly two decades and had to raise three kids on top of a full time job. A man that Draco knew next to nothing about.

"May I sit, Mal-Mr. Malfoy?" Potter stumbled over his first few words and Draco ultimately felt a lot better. He was still the same dimwit after all.

"Yes, of course Auror Potter," he drawled and then preceded to conjure a chair of equal comfort to his own with his wand.

Potter sat and stared at his hands, obviously afraid to make eye contact. "Auror Potter, my vice-executive tells me you wish to order several cauldrons of our invisibility solution. Can you give me the exact amount you wished to order so that I might give you both a time and cost estimate?" Draco decided he may as well be the one to start the transaction as Potter looked like he might melt into a puddle at any moment.

"Err, of course," Potter muttered and then roughly pulled his briefcase - which Draco noted was most likely a present that he had received at least eight years prior and had barely ever used - onto his lap and struggled with the clasp for a few moments. When he eventually got the bag open, he pulled out a stack of parchment. Potter shuffled through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. "Here it is. I need seventeen cauldrons to begin with."

Draco felt his right eyebrow raise at Potter's choice of words. "Excuse me for being blunt, but what do you mean by 'to begin with'?"

To Draco's dismay, Potter actually flushed at the question and visibly sunk back into his chair. "The seventeen is just a start up amount. We'll be needing a refill dosage of approximately twelve cauldrons every month for at least the next three months." He responded rather sheepishly.

Draco crossed his arms tightly across his chest and sat back in his chair as he thought about the seemingly ridiculous order. He had absolutely no idea why the Magical Law Enforcement department would need that much Invisibility Solution. But then again, it was not his place to ask what his clients were doing with the potions they bought. "I am assuming you will need this order to be priority then. That will cost extra. Is your department agreeable to that technicality?"

Potter just nodded at this question, sending his mass of hair flying into his face and then out again. Draco smiled internally at this, recalling just how socially awkward this man had always been. Obviously that had not changed.

"Excellent. Then we can have the first batch ready by Tuesday with the price being two hundred and twelve galleons." He decided and as soon as he was done speaking a small piece of parchment appeared on the desk in front of Potter with the price, date, and Draco's signature written in green ink. "I just need you to sign that for me and then you can be on your way."

It was then that Draco glanced at Potter's face again. He was not picking up a quill to write his signature. He was not even looking at the contract. He was staring right at Draco as if looking for something he had lost. It made Draco worry. What had happened? Did he say something wrong? He had tried to be as business-like as possible. Had something slipped on accident?

As Draco struggled to recall if he had said something to draw Potter's interest, Potter suddenly spoke. "Mal-Mr. Malfoy, you've changed." He said the words in a way that frightened Draco. He said them almost as if they made him happy. That could not be. In fact, that was not allowed. Draco wouldn't let that happen. It couldn't happen. He must have just misheard him. There was no way there was happiness in that sentence.

"Well, I think that would be rather obvious, Auror Potter. I do age quite like normal people, you know. I am not some sort of mythical creature that stays at the same age forever, now am I?" He responded defensively, not liking the fact that the almost-smile upon Potter's face just got bigger at his words.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. You've erm done well for yourself, Malfoy." Potter laughed nervously, making Draco internally cringe. If only he could do something to stop that smile. To stop that laugh. To stop Potter's happiness. If only he could do something to stop this ugly emotion he was beginning to feel from fully developing.

"You've done well for yourself too, _Head Auror_ Potter." He snapped back, putting emphasis on the title to remind Potter that he had forgotten to use his.

Potter blushed this time and the nervous chuckles continued, making Draco's skin crawl at the very sound of them. "Err, Albus talks about your son a lot. He says he's really nice," Small talk. Harry _bloody_ Potter was making small talk with him. Draco could just feel his insides twisting horribly at this development.

"And…?"

"Well, err I just thought that that was nice, you know. Our kids being friends. Kinda a start over for us or something, right?" Draco was not hearing this. He was not hearing these words come out of Harry Potter's mouth.

"Not hardly. Though our sons may look like us, that does not mean they are us. My son has every right to choose his friends as yours presumably does, regardless of who I think is suitable." He said impatiently.

"That is not very Malfoy-like at all. Your father hand-picked your friends, didn't he? So see, you are different." There. Now he seemed to be getting himself confused. With any luck, one more comment from Draco and that horrible goofy smile would be replaced with the scowl he was so familiar with.

"That may be so, but if I had been able to choose my son's friends, I would certainly have chosen your children last." This one had to be it. Any second now, Potter would get up from his chair, storm out of the room and never contact Draco again.

To his horror, Potter actually started laughing. It was not small, half-hidden chuckles anymore either; it was full on laughter and Potter's grin seemed to take up over half of his face. Once he was able to put a stop to his amusement, Potter said something so much worse than Draco could have ever thought possible. The words broke through the barrier he had been struggling to put up in his mind since Potter had walked through the door. The words let the vilest feelings he had ever encountered enter him and fill him up.

"I would've said the same thing to be honest. You know, Malfoy, you're actually a decent human being now. You wanna go get coffee after work today? My treat,"

These words let in hope.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_ Do not for a second believe that I would be upset over what you have been doing. You have placed courage where, for me, there was only cowardice. Continue to stand up for yourself, your friends, and your family. No matter what happens, you will have someone to lean on when you need it, even if that person is the youngest Potter. Forgive me for not writing much this time as I have had quite the day already and I have not the slightest idea how to relay it to you. Just remember, that you are a Malfoy and as a Malfoy, you can wipe your face clean and show a smile to the world without the world finding out that anything is bothering you. However, this also means that behind closed doors, you will need to find someone to let you release all of those emotions on. If Albus Potter is that person, then you have found a very good friend. Do not let him get away._

_Your concerned father,_

_D. Malfoy_

* * *

**Don't**** kill me. I know this is probably inadequate. I tried my best though, and they just didn't want to cooperate in a situation like this. Anyway, hopefully they'll settle down next chapter. I'm going to try and go through the books to find Harry's favorite foods, but if any of you guys know of any of them (canon please!), then message me please. As always, please tell me what you thought about it and hopefully I'll have the next chapter out by next Thursday.**_  
_


	5. Black Relations

**Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! Yeah, I know. I have no excuses for a two month wait. Uhm, school? Anyway, I've been home for a couple of days now that Christmas/New Year traveling is over and so I decided to finish up this chapter. I'm not really that happy with it, but I can't think of anyway to fix it right now, so hopefully it's okay. This story is going to be a long one, by the way. They are just getting to know each other after so long, and it is going to be a while until they are actually together. Plus, you know...Harry is still married. **

**Sorry again!**

**~Croweh**

* * *

Chapter 5: Black Relations

_Dad,_

_ Lily just wrote to me. She said you and Mum were fighting. Is everything okay? Scorpius says that his parents always fought and that is why they're now getting a divorce. That's not going to happen with you guys though, right? You still love each other, right? I don't want our family to be separated at all._

_ Please answer this as soon as possible,_

_Al_

_P.S. Situation hasn't changed with Rose, but James and Fred are starting to become a pain. Scorpius doesn't like them at all and they constantly pick on him. I don't know what to do. Help me please._

Harry had to say that Draco Malfoy had really not changed as much as he had thought he had. Even the receding hairline that he had noticed at the train station was beginning to disappear – was he perhaps using that new hair renewal potion Hermione was getting Ron for Christmas? – and even the smirk that Harry had grown up with was still planted firmly on those lips as if it were to be stuck there for all eternity. No, he knew that wasn't so. Harry could remember as clearly as if it were yesterday when he had seen that solid force crumble before a bathroom mirror. Frowning slightly, Harry absorbed all of the tiny little changes such as the forsaking of the usual black robes with green lining for a lilac set with maroon lining and the way his cloud grey eyes seemed more open to the world now than he ever remembered seeing them before.

He was just beginning to admire the way Malfoy's jaw line was structured, when he blinked and noticed a hand being waved in front of his face. Harry sat back and flushed slightly as he looked over at the waitress that had just arrived, hopefully. "Auror Potter, I know I am gorgeous, but could you please order while it is still daylight? I am running on a tight schedule, you know, and I cannot very well delay it, even for the Savior of the Wizarding World." Or not.

Harry tried his very hardest not to snap back at Malfoy as he would have done all those years ago, and instead, he gazed up at the waitress and smiled crookedly. "I'll have coffee with cream and a cranberry scone, please." He said after Malfoy actually groaned from impatience. The waitress blushed profusely and disappeared behind the counter, probably to tell all of her coworkers that Harry Potter was eating with Draco Malfoy. Harry could just see the _Evening Prophet_ now: "Savior Has Coffee with Death Eater: What's next, the End of the World?" or some other rubbish like that. Well, he hoped Hermione would be happy. Too bad he could readily name a few that wouldn't be.

"Now that our waitress has so kindly left us alone, could you perhaps inform me of the reason you so desired to take me to a tea shop on Diagon Alley?" Malfoy asked, his slender body shivering slightly underneath the coat he had pulled on when Harry had come to pick him up earlier.

"Err, it has been so long and I thought it would be erm good for us to get to err know each other better? Since we're no longer enemies, and such?" _Good job, Harry. Real nice word choice there. He'll be so incredibly impressed by your attempt at speaking that he might even smile at you. _Harry mentally slapped himself, thinking that he could not have gotten much worse than that. For someone that was trying to get on Malfoy's good side, he had most likely just royally screwed up.

"What I got from that was that Granger forced you to join her Inter-house Relations Committee and I just happened to be your first test subject, am I correct?" Harry grinned broadly at those words. He changed his mind again; Malfoy had changed a lot. He had even gotten himself a sense of humor that did not result in the harming of small children.

"Well, sort of. She might have mentioned getting to know you a bit, but at least I don't have to wear a badge or do any protesting this time. But don't take that the wrong way! No, I did this because you made me laugh and I want to get to know this new side of you. If that makes any sense at all…" Harry started out strong but then quickly deflated at the strong look of disbelief on Malfoy's face. Could it be that getting to know him was the very last thing on Malfoy's mind? What if Hermione was wrong and Malfoy had no interest in becoming anything more than enemies turned strangers?

"You know what, Auror Potter? That makes absolutely no sense." Malfoy said and then leaned forward on the table, letting those storm grey eyes pierce Harry where he sat. "However, do you know what else does not make sense?" He paused only long enough for Harry to shake his head once. "The fact that you are British and you drink coffee at a tea shop. Sure, the scone was a nice touch, but coffee? I think I would rather date you, than have that horrid drink anywhere near my lips."

Harry, who had been steadily been getting closer to Malfoy, drawn by his gaze, sat back suddenly as if scorched. It took him a few moments to collect himself and absorb the hidden smile in Malfoy's eyes as well as the way Malfoy had not jumped back at Harry's shock. It was these traits that let Harry relax into his seat and chuckle slightly. Malfoy had not meant any harm and his rough tone was merely his pureblood roots talking, or at least, that was what Harry hoped it was. It did not seem that hostile, anyhow. "Oh, I spent a year or two in America before the kids were born on an Auror assignment and found out that coffee is actually really good, so I've been drinking it ever since. You're not the only one who thinks I'm nuts. Even Ron, who went with me on that trip, wouldn't touch the stuff. Hermione's got him brainwashed that it'll stain his teeth or some other rot that her parents tell their patients…I'm rambling, aren't I?" Harry finished, noticing the way Malfoy's right eyebrow was slowly rising across his forehead as Harry spoke.

"No, not at all. It was just interesting to me that you and the other members of the Golden Trio actually have disagreements. I was under the impression that everything was always sunshine and rainbows with you."

Harry had to bite his tongue on this one. He had to try or Hermione would never forgive him. Maybe Malfoy really was offended in some way by Harry's liking for coffee. Surely he wasn't actually trying to get on Harry's nerves. "Well, then you would be wrong. Err, how're your parents doing, nowadays?"

Malfoy actually did sit back in his seat for this question, but as he was opening his mouth to answer, the waitress came back. She smiled at Harry as she placed his coffee, cream, and scone in front of him, but the smile dropped from her face as she put Malfoy's earl grey tea and blueberry scone on the table. She then left without asking either of them if they needed anything else. It seemed to Harry that the peace he had strived for for so long was still not here if the prejudice against Death Eaters that even he had personally saved was still this strong. It made him instantly want to leave this place, but the way Malfoy was studiously pouring sugar into his tea made Harry calm down automatically. Either Malfoy did not care or he had not noticed, meaning that it would not do for Harry to make a scene right now. Instead, he poured the entirety of the cream into his coffee and began to stir while waiting for Malfoy to answer his question.

"My parents have seen better days, surely, however they are doing just fine as they are currently. Both are still living at the Manor with Astoria and me, though soon it may be just the three of us again. I assume you did hear about my impending divorce from your son, correct?" Malfoy finally responded his tone neutral and his face not showing any emotion on the topic as he gazed into his tea.

"Err, yes I did. Albus talks a lot about your son, actually. They seem to be very close, something I could have never foreseen." Slowly, Harry was beginning to realize how much the topics of their conversation changed. Every time one of them approached a topic that was uncomfortable for them, the other changed it. So far it had been mostly Harry doing the conversation starters, but Malfoy had not yet even seemed to have the urge to leave the table and not look back. Overall, it was going well so far, or so Harry believed.

"You never were that great at Divination, were you? I'm sure Trelawney must have predicted this in one of the classes you fainted in: 'Mr. Potter, you will die but then come back to life and have a kid that will be friends with a Malfoy, but after that you will die again'."

Harry couldn't help it; he burst out laughing because not only did he predict something that Trelawney would, Malfoy had also even changed his voice to try and sound like her. Yes, Hermione was definitely right to give this Slytherin prince a chance. "Merlin, Malfoy. I didn't know you had such a sense of humor, otherwise I would have tried to be friends with you a long time ago."

Harry chuckled a bit more, but then looked up at Malfoy as soon as he realized that the Slytherin was not saying anything more, not even making a noise. He frowned worriedly at what he saw there: Malfoy holding onto his cup tightly with a stricken look on his face as if he were remembering something horrible that had happened to him. "Malfoy, you okay?"

Malfoy seemed to come to himself then. He loosened his hold on the cup and even brought it up to his lips to take a long sip. Shaking himself as if to release some terrible thought, Malfoy looked over at Harry and surprised him by smiling a bit. However, the smile wasn't real; it didn't reach his eyes, which still looked absolutely petrified. "Yes, of course. I was just recalling something my mother asked me this morning. She seemed to be under the same delusion as Granger – or is it Mrs. Weasley now? Either way, Mother told me to invite you to dinner tonight at the Manor, so would you mind very much to accommodate her wishes?"

Harry swallowed a bite of his scone too fast at that and nearly choked on it. Taking a sip of his coffee to try and clear his throat out, Harry stared at the man sitting across the table from him. He could see his eyes glazing over as if trying to hide any stray emotion and his lips planting themselves into a thin line, neither frowning nor smiling. He could also see how everything about Malfoy's posture was cool and calculated, designed to look at ease rather than actually so. Even after so long apart, Harry could still recall every trait he had learned about Malfoy during that devastating sixth year. From all of this and the way Malfoy held his tea cup just a little too tightly, Harry knew how anxious he had been about asking the question and how much he probably wished he could take it back now. Taking these findings into account, Harry chose his words carefully, "Err, will your father be there?"...or not so carefully.

Malfoy definitely looked strained from this. However, he still managed to answer in a very cordial tone. "Yes, he will be, but rest assured, he is in no position to harm an Auror such as yourself."

"Err, of course. I wasn't suggesting…but err, who else will be there?" Harry asked weakly, feeling more and more the fool every moment. He couldn't work it out; it had been so long since he had had trouble speaking in front of a person. During Auror training, he had taken speech classes in order to be able to talk professionally to clients and the like, and he had since then been able to at least converse without sounding like a complete twat. However, being in Malfoy's presence was bringing back his old nervous habits and that made Harry worry more and more about any outing Malfoy might plan.

Wait…an outing with Malfoy? Did he really want to spend more time with this man who had made his childhood Hell and whose adulthood he knew nothing about? Did he even trust him enough for that? He wasn't family; he couldn't just trust him on instinct as he could with any of the Weasleys, Percy included. That train of thought placed an image in Harry's head of an old tapestry inside of his home that he had spent countless months restoring, even having to replace and add names to it. He could see a line of three names in his head: Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa, the three Black sisters. Harry followed the lines that went down from Narcissa and Andromeda and saw two names: Draco and Nymphadora. There was one more line down from Nymphadora that led to the name Ted and that was when Harry had an idea.

"…and Astoria. Potter, are you even listening to me?!"

Harry blinked in shock at the difference in Malfoy's tone from a few moments prior, but then grinned at the fact that a single strand of hair had fallen out of the tight ponytail Malfoy kept his hair tied back in. This did not improve the look his companion was giving him; as if he were a toadstool that he would much rather squish under his shoe than look at any longer.

So, Harry decided to take a chance. "No, I really wasn't, but are you finished?"

"Finished talking? I suppose I was, but that is no reason to not even take a precious second to listen to the answer to the question _you _asked." Malfoy responded scathingly.

Even this did not deter Harry's new determination. Before Harry decided to go anywhere with Malfoy, even under Hermione's wishes, he had to test something first. "Actually, I meant are you done with your tea?"

Malfoy had apparently not expected his question, for he stopped in the act of opening his mouth and blinked a couple of times before looking down at his half empty cup and the final bite or so of his scone that was left. He reached out two fingers and pressed them lightly against the side of the cup before hastily withdrawing them. He bit his lip and lifted his eyes back to Harry again. "Seeing as my tea has gone cold and I am assuming your barely touched sludge is the same way, I am finished. Was there something you wanted to complete, Auror Potter? Perhaps the signing of the papers for the order?"

Harry grinned and shook his head, enjoying the little detail of Malfoy's disdain for coffee and that he still wasn't giving up on talking about work. He took out a few knuts and put them on the table before standing up and taking a couple of steps toward the door. He then looked back and chuckled lightly at the dumbfounded look on Malfoy's face. "You coming, Malfoy?" Turning back around, Harry left the tea shop and headed out into Diagon Alley.

He counted in his head to ten and then he could hear Malfoy struggling through the crowd to catch up with him. Harry backtracked a bit and pulled his companion through a group of Norwegian tourists by grabbing onto his cold hand. As soon as they were together again, Harry released the hold he had on Malfoy and grinned nervously at him. The blond just looked all kinds of startled and Harry was expecting the first thing for him to say would be something as to where they were going or how dare he leave him in the shop alone. Malfoy actually said neither of these things; what he did say was, "You didn't tip her. Why didn't you tip her?"

Harry frowned at the question and shook his head, "Did you really take the time to count how much I put down?"

"Don't avoid the question," was all Malfoy said in response.

"She was rude to you." Harry said simply and then continued walking down the busy Alley, "Now, come on. I want to show you my favorite shop here."

He walked for a while with Malfoy by his side, though Malfoy tended to trail slightly behind him at times. A couple of times Harry had to grab some part of Malfoy, usually his hand or the sleeve of his robes, to avoid getting separated by the mobs of pre-Halloween shoppers and fall tourists. Each time Harry grabbed his hand, he could have sworn that Malfoy was getting colder to the touch, but then, he had always had a wild imagination and generally a lot of people felt cold to him. Mrs. Weasley had once said in one of her bouts of motherly love that Harry was always so warm because he had such a huge heart. Harry had let her go about her whims, but had later been sternly told by Hermione to not believe a word of it because, medically speaking, it made no sense.

When he passed Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, he merely glanced at it with fondness before continuing on. He had almost gotten to the next block before he realized that Malfoy was no longer following him. Harry doubled back and found him in front of George's shop looking confused. "Are we not stopping here?" Malfoy asked.

"No, we're not. The place I'm taking you to is a little further ahead and much more quiet than the WWW could ever be."

"Oh, okay." Malfoy said, still looking confused. Harry just grinned at him and started walking again. Malfoy began to follow only after a brief hesitation this time.

As they moved further through the crowd, Harry made sure to keep an eye on his companion this time so as not to lose him again. Due to this, Harry began to notice how out of place Malfoy looked here. He was nervous to the point of flinching at every contact with a stranger, and every time a loud noise occurred – such as a cauldron dropping to the ground or an owl screeching – Malfoy nearly made a grab for Harry's hand before stopping himself at the last moment. It made Harry wonder how often Malfoy actually left his Manor besides going to work. Immediately, that thought led back to how the waitress had treated him, making Harry realize more and more how horribly prejudiced people still were.

With that thought in mind, Harry grabbed Malfoy's hand tightly in his own and rushed faster through the crowd towards his intended destination. As he nearly ran, he could hear some complaints from behind him about being decent and letting go of a bloody hand, but he didn't stop until he could see the small shop he was looking for clearly. Then he took Malfoy aside and let go of him, preparing for an onslaught that didn't come. The blond just stood there in front of him, completely quiet but also entirely too pale.

"Err, Malfoy. The place we're going is…err, have you ever met Andromeda Tonks?" Harry asked worriedly. However, Malfoy was still very quiet. He did not speak, and the only answer Harry received was a slight widening of the eyes in recognition of the name and a shake of the head. "Well, she is your aunt…err, I guess you knew that. What I'm trying to say is we're going to her grandson's shop. I want you to meet your cousin…once removed or something like that. Is…is that okay?"

Harry waited a few moments, hoping that Malfoy would respond in some way that Harry was doing something right. Still, Malfoy did nothing. Harry actually let out a sigh and frowned at his unresponsive companion. "Look Malfoy, Teddy Lupin is my godson and is also a part of your family. If you come with me to meet him now, I'll go with you to your family dinner thing at Malfoy Manor tonight. Deal?"

He could visibly notice Malfoy swallowing this idea and waited a few more moments; patience was something that he had never quite managed, even during Auror training. Finally, he nodded and even was able to respond, "Fine, I will meet him, but you will have to compile a list of all your favorite foods within the next hour so I can send it off to my mother."

Harry grinned in response, "Great! Let's go then." Then he, followed by a reluctant Malfoy, crossed the street to stand in front of a shop titled Glass Fires, which noted itself to have glass blown by real dragon fire. Harry glanced at Malfoy, who had gone back to looking nervous, and shook his head before stepping inside of the shop.

The first things he noticed, as he always did, were the dozens of colorful glass vases placed carefully into several shelves in the front of the shop. Each of them was handcrafted by his godson, with different designs and colors woven into them by his own brand of magic. They were beautiful and creative pieces, and Harry was always impressed by the sheer patience and care that must have been put into them, especially since the maker was neither patient nor careful outside of the workshop. Teddy was, in fact, one of the clumsiest people Harry knew, which was just one of the traits he had inherited from his mother.

"Just a moment," rang out a voice from the back as the door shut and a loud ringing sound rang out through the shop.

"Auror Potter, what is this place?" Malfoy asked quietly, his eyes flashing from an orange and black candy-striped vase to a collection of glass animals sitting on a table nearby. Harry wondered if this place suited the Malfoy's taste, despite the dust layering some of the shelves and floor.

"It's a glassblower's workshop. The occupation has been around forever in the muggle world but has just recently come to the Wizarding World. Most make theirs with wizarding fire or actually live in Romania just to be near dragon fire. Teddy was one of those; he spent a year with Charlie developing this skill once he graduated Hogwarts. It really surprised everyone. Most of us thought he'd end up an Auror like me, but I think he wanted to do something really different to show us that he was his own person instead of like his mother or father." Harry explained as they waited for the wizard in question to come up to the front of the shop.

"Uncle Harry, is that you? You look old!" A young man with light blue eyes and turquoise hair came around the corner and laughed at the affronted look that came upon Harry's face at that comment. Teddy then stepped closer and tugged at Harry's hair, making his godfather flinch as he pulled out a strand of it. "Oh, that's better. Now, you look younger." Teddy grinned as he put up the grey hair for Harry to inspect.

"I'm not that old, you brat. It's the job! They've been having me work too many hours again." Harry grumbled, snatching back the hair and dropping it on the floor to mingle with the dust.

"Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows you set your own hours, Mr. Head Auror. If anyone has a right to complain, it's Uncle…who's this?" Teddy cut himself off as he finally noticed Malfoy standing behind Harry, as if trying to hide his very existence from the shop owner.

"Err, Teddy, do you remember that tapestry in the drawing room?" Harry asked, not really knowing a better way to feed the connection between these two people whose lives have been completely different, not to mention separate.

"Yeah…the one you tried for months to remove and then gave up and decided to just spend the next few months begging Mrs. Black for permission to restore it before actually fixing it?"

"Yeah, that one. Well, on that tapestry, there are just two parts of the Black family that are still living. One, of course, is your grandmother and you. The other is the Malfoy family. This, Teddy, is your mother's cousin: Draco Malfoy."

The light went out of Teddy at this. He was frowning and as he did so, his hair changed color. First, it moved to black and shaggy like Harry's, but then it changed to white-blond and slicked back in a style Harry recognized as the one Malfoy had donned in his early school years. Finally, Teddy's hair went back to its usual turquoise color and he looked Malfoy up and down, as if looking for something. "Draco Malfoy…but wasn't he…"

"A death eater?" Malfoy piped up, finishing Teddy's sentence with slight malice. His arms had folded while Harry wasn't looking and he looked ready to run out at any moment. Harry swallowed hard, but felt like he shouldn't interfere with this right now. This was, after all, Harry's test: to see how Malfoy would act around other members of Harry's family.

"Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was going to say. I was going to ask if you were the one that didn't turn Uncle Harry in when the snatchers had caught him back in the war." Teddy said sharply, looking annoyed at being assumed as a prejudiced prick.

Malfoy took an actual step back at this, his eyes were wide but his crossed arms just became tighter as he exchanged a shocked glance with Harry. Focusing back on the young man, Malfoy responded in a much cooler voice, "Oh…yes, I didn't realize people outside of the Wizengamot knew that." He visibly took in a breath and then continued, "Auror Potter said you were Aunt Andromeda's grandson. Could I ask you…what is she like?"

"You're really formal, aren't you? Are you like this all the time? Cause if you are, that'll get boring really fast. Anyway, Aunt Andromeda is strict, stern, can't take a joke, has hair as dark as Uncle Harry's, and doesn't like kids that much. I think that sums her up. Oh, and she gets real formal when she's mad, kinda like how you talk." Teddy explained, frowning slightly as if he thought the question extremely odd.

Harry watched in surprise as Malfoy's furrowed expression softened with each description given about his aunt. By the time Teddy had finished talking, Malfoy was very nearly smiling. "She sounds a lot like my mother, despite how much they obviously despise each other." Harry grinned at this and began to come up with various ideas on how to get these two estranged women to talk to each other after nearly four decades of being apart. He would have to consult Hermione, of course. She was the best at putting people in uncomfortable situations, and this situation would take the gold.

"Err, Uncle Harry, can I talk to you about something?" Harry turned from his thoughts and watching Malfoy's ever-changing expressions to see Teddy looking at his feet with his hands in the pockets of his robes.

Suddenly worried that something might be wrong, he nodded and then turned back to the other man, "Hey Malfoy, why don't you look around for a bit and find something you think your mother might like. I'll buy it as a thank you for tonight." Waiting for Malfoy to look up and understand his meaning, Harry smiled tightly to let him know everything was fine. Then, he and Teddy went to the back of the shop in order to get some privacy for whatever Teddy wished to talk about.

Once they were both far enough away from the front of the shop where Malfoy was busy looking at all the different glass objects that Teddy had created over the past few months, Harry turned to face his godson and see a confused and worried look on his face. Harry opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but before he got anywhere, Teddy shoved a piece of parchment into his hands. Harry swallowed as he looked down to recognize the untidy scrawl that Albus had inherited from him. "What is this?" He asked, holding the letter tightly.

"Just read it."

_Dear Teddy,_

_ How's it been going? Have you made me an unbreakable glass dragon yet? Can it move like a real dragon does as well, when you do? That'd be really cool and I think my friends would really enjoy it. I told them about Bernie, but none of them believe me. They all still think that dragons aren't allowed to live outside of a dragon-keep, but Bernie is special, right?_

_ Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Mom and Dad. Have you seen them lately? Are they doing okay? I've been talking to Dad, but he doesn't really talk much about himself when he does answer my letters. The reason I'm asking is cuz Lily sent me a letter saying that they were fighting and I'm worried. One of my friends is going through a divorce with his parents right now, and I don't wanna have to go through that as well. I sent a letter to Dad too, but I don't know if he'll actually tell me the truth about this one. So, could you find out for me please?_

_Love,_

_Al_

Harry looked up from the letter and into two very disappointed green eyes. He felt immediately hurt by those eyes; every time Teddy changed his eye color to that of his own, it meant that he was upset with something Harry had done. This time was no different. Harry could feel hurt and betrayal rolling off of Teddy in waves.

"Are you really fighting with Aunt Ginny?" asked Teddy in a voice that had lost every happy thought the voice from earlier had carried. It made Harry wonder how Teddy had grown up to be able to hide his thoughts so well whenever he had never been able to.

Harry looked at his shoes in response and heard Teddy take in a sharp breath afterwards. He then looked up at his godson again and noticed a single tear marring his handsome face. Immediately, Harry rushed forward and held Teddy to him, whispering into his ear, "Yes, we've been fighting, but I promise you, Teddy, it isn't that bad. We still love each other very much, and all the fighting has been about silly things that neither of us really understand. We are no where near close to breaking up, so don't ever let that thought cross your mind. Okay?"

Teddy nodded and let out a small hiccup that could have been a sob before pulling away and wiping at his eyes. "Okay, but you'll write back to Al, right? I don't want him to worry either. He's too young to be involved in the affairs of adults." Teddy said, letting his eyes go back to their usual cloudy grey.

"Of course, I will. But hey, could you do something for me?"

"Maybe, but if it involves Mr. Malfoy over there, I can't say that I'll for sure say yes." Teddy answered, smirking.

Harry just laughed at that. "Okay, so his people skills aren't that great, but I really don't think he's all bad. Plus, 'Mione said to try, and what 'Mione says–"

"-goes." Teddy finished for him. "Okay, fine. So besides to meet my long-lost, too-formal cousin, what else did you want from me?"

"Err..." Harry grimaced and scratched the back of his head in worry at how this next question would be faced. "How would you feel about meeting the whole Malfoy family?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll take you to the World Cup this summer."

"Fine...but you better not take that back."

Grinning, Harry hugged his godson tightly before nearly dragging him back to the front of the store where Malfoy was busy examining a large, green, glass serpent that snapped at him when he moved his wedding ring too close to it. "It's a jewelry case; once it's been given an owner, the owner can put all of his or her own jewelry inside of it and only he or she can retrieve the jewelry as well. It's not that great of a seller right now, mostly due to the fact that the creatures generally only like top-notch jewelry. I haven't yet figured out how to make it have a lesser taste." Teddy explained to a baffled Malfoy.

Malfoy then turned to Harry and smirked cheerfully, "I do believe my mother would appreciate this one."

Nodding, Harry turned back to Teddy, "How much?"

"Twenty galleons,"

"How much for me?"

"Twenty galleons,"

"I'm your godfather! That's outright robbery."

"Alright then. Thirty galleons,"

Frowning and grumbling, Harry fished out that last amount from his pocket and put the gold coins into his godson's waiting hands. "Thanks for your business, Uncle Harry. Would you like that wrapped up?" Teddy grinned happily.

Disgruntled, Harry crossed his arms and looked the younger man in the eyes, "How much would _that _cost?"

"Free if those World Cup tickets include the Minister's box,"

"Kid, I always said you were going to break me. You and James, together."

"Ah James, Uncle George and I've trained him well," Teddy laughed as he went to go get wrappings for the glass snake.

Left alone with Malfoy, Harry turned to see the blonde's eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. "What?" Harry asked, not liking that expression at all. It looked as if Malfoy was beginning to come up with some sort of plan that Harry would not be happy about.

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if you have created that list that I asked you for yet."

Alarmed, Harry turned around and immediately tried to find a piece of parchment and a quill somewhere in the shop that he could use. How could he have forgotten? He had a feeling that this insane day was not even close to being finished yet. Not to mention, he still had to write to Al about how the fights he was having with Ginny was nothing when, in fact, Harry could feel inside of himself that that was a complete lie.

_Al,_

_I want to tell you a secret, okay? It's an adult one, so it's okay if you don't fully understand. People fight all the time. If they don't, their anger just ends up building inside of them without their knowledge and then one day they explode and lose a lot of friends. Your mom and I have been together for a long time, and we don't always agree on everything, but we try our hardest to not let any of you see those disagreements. We want you guys to be happy, so we only show you the happy sides of us. Don't get me wrong; I still love your mother very much and she loves me. Don't ever think that we might be separating. Our situation is totally different from Scorpius's parents. _

_Love you always,_

_Dad_

_P. S. Don't worry about James. I'll send him a strongly worded letter about how to speak to others, and if he still acts up after that, I'll tell him that he can't come to the World Cup with us this summer. Yes, we're going. Thank Teddy for that._

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**Going to be working on the next chapter over the next couple of days, so hopefully it won't be that long of a wait this time. Also, I'll write a story (either a chapter-length or a one-shot, depending on how much I like the basic concept) for the first person that catches a reference I used in this chapter and name which book and what scene it's from. =)**_  
_

**P.S. Give me foods you guys like, so I can use them as Harry's favorites in the next chapter! J.K. only gave him treacle tart as far as I'm currently aware. (Plus, I'm too lazy to scour the books looking for food)  
**


	6. Two Lions in a Snake Pit

**Hey guys! Here is chapter 6. I am just going to say that this story will be updated again. I just don't know when. I'm a college student, so my life is rather crazy, especially since I joined three clubs this semester (Anime Club, Association for Computer Machinery, and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team). Heh. I'm insane to try to do all of this. Plus, I have lots of stress issues from family, but eh. Here it is. Woohoo. Hope you guys like it.**

**Also, if you're wondering why there isn't a letter, it is because this is still the same day from two chapters ago and I didn't think Scorpius would send that many letters in a day. Just saying.**

**~Croweh**

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Chapter 6: Two Lions in a Snake Pit

Diagon Alley was slowly beginning to close up for the night. The sun was going down as the clock located on Gringott's struck seven and, upset by the coming darkness, the various shoppers began to disappear one by one, whether by apparating or running into the nearest shop to use the floo. Despite how low the crime rate currently was, wizards nowadays were still worried by any unnecessary noise, especially at night. Barely anyone ever stayed out for dinner, preferring to be at home with their families. Thus, here he was waiting out in the cold with Potter and his godson as the young man locked up his glass warehouse.

Frankly, Draco was not amused by Potter's godson, who he found was not at all like the hero but rather more like the Weasley twins had been. This was mostly based on the fact that every time Potter turned away, his so-called cousin turned towards him and changed his nose into various animal noses in order to shock the blonde. Needless to say, Draco found him childish and was not at all happy that Potter had invited him along to his mother's dinner party at the Manor. Having the Savior of the Wizarding World to dinner was one thing, but having a blood-traitor and a werewolf's son as well might not sit well with his father, even if his mother told him to behave. However, there had been no chance to warn his mother about the extra person because Potter had failed to inform him of the invite until after the food list had been sent off with a post owl. Therefore, he could only hope that his father was not the one to answer the door.

"Err, is everyone ready?" Potter asked in what Draco was beginning to learn was the most eloquent he ever achieved, not that Draco had ever thought Potter could do better than that. He had, after all, been raised by muggles and the Weasley clan. It was the best he could do, and Draco couldn't fault him for that. In fact, Draco much preferred his easy way of speaking; it allowed all of his true colors to shine through, something that Draco could never get close to with all of his training.

In answer, the metamorphmagus tapped his wand against the open sign on his door, which immediately turned red and read "closed". Then, he turned around and stepped up to his godfather, nodding with a frown on his face. Draco could just see that Teddy Lupin was not exactly happy with this situation, and it made him wonder why he had even agreed to Potter's evil scheme in the first place if he was so against eating with Draco's family. Knowing it was no use to argue because he was too scared that if he said Lupin couldn't come then Potter would also back out, he turned to them both and held out his hands to them. "We're going to have to do side-along apparition because Auror Potter has only been to Malfoy Manor once and you've never been there." He explained to the young man, whose face had looked shocked at being offered Draco's hand.

Slowly, both of them took hold of each of Draco's hands and then he closed his eyes and turned on his heel, wishing desperately that when they arrived, he wouldn't have to let go of Potter's hand. The warmth comforted him and made him feel like he was, for one moment, not hated by the entire wizarding population, not that he would ever admit it to another living soul, especially his mother. But then the moment ended and both Potter and Lupin retracted their hands, Lupin too quickly and Potter more slowly. How Potter did this action sent Draco's imagination running off without him on some train going to Hopeville. It was just too bad that reality stayed behind to show him that he was standing in front of the gates to his home with two people that probably had no wish to be there with him.

The gates were cast-iron and painted black, pointing out the contrast between them and the twelve-foot white walls on either side of them. During the refurbishment of the grounds after the War, the gates were the only things that his father had put forward his foot on. On everything else, he had stayed quietly inside of his wing without complaint, but he would not let anyone else touch the gates. His father had repainted them and cast new, stronger spells over them himself, saying over and over again to anyone that got in his way that he was a Malfoy and that even though his name was mud, the gates would be done by the head of the Malfoy family as they had been done for centuries beforehand.

Therefore, when Draco went up to the gates and tapped them once with his wand, it was his father's voice that rang out from them, "State your purpose for coming to Malfoy Manor."

"Father, it is your son Draco bringing Mother's guests for dinner tonight." Draco said to the gate, wary of not saying Teddy Lupin's name to his father at this time. He could just imagine the uproar it would cause, and Draco wanted both of them safely inside the Manor before any of that could happen.

"If you are really my son, answer me this: what is the name of my least favorite horse?"

"This is a trick question, Father. You do not have a least favorite horse; you don't like any of our horses."

Instead of another response from his father, the gates opened automatically to admit them. Draco immediately began to walk down the long pathway to the Manor. Both Potter and Lupin followed behind, though more slowly because they seemed entranced by what they saw on either side of the stone path. He had to admit, the place was gorgeous. His father's white peacocks were striving well along with his mother's flowers, which grew along both sides of the path. The grass was eternally green, with the exception of the winter time when it turned white with snow. The grounds had been given a complete makeover after the War, as they had been in severe disrepair from having way too many of the Dark Lord's followers trampling all over them for over a year.

"If you have any questions about the grounds or the Manor itself, do let me know. Otherwise, try to keep up. You never know what kind of vicious plants my mother may have thought would be nice to breed lately." Draco said without feeling the need to turn around as he kept walking. A few moments later, he could hear both of his guests' shoes beginning to hurry across the stones in order to catch up to him. Smiling to himself, he wondered what his mother would actually make of them.

Finally, they reached the huge white manor and began to walk up the steps to the huge oak doors. Here is where Draco stopped and turned around to face both Potter and Lupin. "Before we enter, I do feel that I must warn you: do not wander alone inside of this building. You will get lost and there is no guarantee that someone will be able to find you. It would be best to just stay with me at all times in order to avoid this. Also, this is by no means a criticism on however either of you usually act around other people, as I do not know how you do, but please do try to be as nice and formal as you can. You may not like me or my family, and both my mother and I understand that. However, my father has become more…testy…as he has gotten older. As such, please keep all comments about the War out of the conversation unless one of my parents brings it up."

After finishing speaking, Draco waited a good minute for both of his guests to at least nod in agreement to his terms before he turned back around to face the door. He pulled out his hawthorn wand and pointed it at the oak door. After giving a single flick with his wand, the doors opened inwards to admit them into a beige entrance hall. There, a small house-elf with large almond eyes appeared to greet them. "Welcome home, Master Draco. Welcome to Malfoy Manor, sirs."

"Ruthie, where is Mother?" Draco asked once the elf had straightened up from the bow she had given to the three men.

"Mistress Narcissa be ordering lots of foods in the kitchen, Master Draco. Would you likes Ruthie to tell her you be needing her?"

"Yes, that would be great, Ruthie. Tell her I will be in the drawing room with our guests." Draco said and then waited for her to snap her fingers and disappear before turning back to Potter and Lupin. "Dinner is not quite ready, so we can wait in the drawing room and have some drinks while it is being cooked." They both nodded in answer to his unspoken question, but Draco could see that Potter was puzzled by something separate. Deciding that it would be better to let him bring it up on his own time, Draco turned again and continued to lead them on, this time towards the drawing room.

They walked for a while in silence, though Draco could have sworn he heard some whispering at times from behind him. He tried not to listen in on their conversation though; worried that he might hear something bad about his home or his family. It was all he could do to keep his head up right now, and he did not want anything to have a chance of deterring him. After going through a few hallways and a couple of doorways, they finally arrived in front of a pair of doors with a knight on either side of them. He leaned forward to grab hold of one of the door handles when suddenly the knight on his right lifted his silver horn to his helmet and blew rather loudly. Draco backed up and covered his ears with his hands, glaring at the knight.

"What was that about?" He asked it through clenched teeth, finding it rather hard to hold his anger in at the moment.

"I was told," said the knight.

"He was told to warn," said the other knight.

"To warn Miss Astoria,"

"_Mistress_ Astoria, I tell you,"

"_Miss_ Astoria – she is no longer a mistress of this Manor, you fool – of intruders on,"

"If _Mistress_ Astoria is no mistress, then Master Draco is no intruder."

"Of incoming users of the room, then,"

"Much better,"

"Due to the fact that she was going to be using it to do a little thinking,"

"And thinking she has! Mistress Astoria has been coming up with all kinds of plans of late. She has even been coming up with ways to keep the,"

"Hush, you cretin!"

"Alright, alright! Both of you be quiet. She has definitely had enough time by now to compose herself, so we will be entering presently." Draco cut in, glaring at both knights who had never been able to get along for as long as he could remember. They had tried separating them on several occasions, but they just irritated whatever else they were placed beside to points where the other portraits or statues would threaten leaving the Manor and never returning. It had come to a point where they could only stand each other, even when they fought. Unfortunately, they fought, and enjoyed fighting, all the time.

Draco stepped forward again, slowly this time to make sure that neither of the knights pulled any stunts. However, before he could get a hand on the handle again, Lupin piped up, "Before we go in, who is Astoria?"

Turning back around, he grimaced at the pair. He had forgotten to explain to Teddy Lupin who all would be here tonight, and especially about the sensitive subject that was Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass. "Astoria is my soon-to-be ex-wife; she is still living with us because this Manor is huge and we barely have to see each other if we don't want to. Plus, she currently has nowhere else to go." _Not to mention, it still isn't certain whether or not she'll get this place, and by what the knights almost let slip, she has an idea how to. _Draco thought to himself as he finally turned the handle and entered the drawing room.

Upon entering the room, he noticed that a stack of paperwork had been shoved hastily into a folder and then placed on one of the bookshelves that lined two of the walls. He could imagine that whatever Astoria was planning was hidden away in those papers. It was really too bad that he had guests to take care of at the moment, or he would've used all of his skills to go behind her back and snatch them from her. As it was, he would have to let it slide just this once. As for Astoria, she was sitting in a flowing baby blue dress by the piano as if she were about to play, an activity he knew that she could not do even with all of the notes being called out to her in time.

She looked up suddenly, her eyes widening in feigned shock at the intrusion of other members of the household. Draco wanted so badly to scoff and point out her fictitiousness to his two guests, but for now, he let her have her way. After all, he had to set an example that his mother would approve of. She stood and spoke with her hand over her heart, "Oh Draco darling, I'm so glad you're home. I was beginning to get worried that you had lost your way or gotten splinched on the way back. Oh, but you've brought guests! Is that…oh goodness, you're Harry Potter." At this, she practically danced over and took a baffled Potter's hands into hers before leading him over to the loveseat. Astoria then sat down beside him and smiled sharply up at Draco, knowing full well that she had won this round.

Keeping his face clear of any noticeable emotion, Draco led Lupin to a chair nearest to Potter's side of the loveseat before going to sit on the couch across from it. He placed his hands in his lap together so that he could claw at his palms without anyone noticing; it was a trick his father had taught him long ago for getting through annoying formal gatherings. This way he could smile and sound polite whenever anyone asked something of him, but hidden away inside of his lap, he could be clawing out all of his anger. "Would either of you like something to drink?" He asked softly, eyes staring directly at the shrinking gap between Astoria and Potter. Oh, the woman was divine at making every situation as uncomfortable for him as she possibly could. It was one of the many reasons why he was divorcing her.

"I'll take a firewhiskey, if you have one." Lupin spoke up first, though he wasn't looking at Draco as he did. He was busy looking at Astoria with mistrust in his eyes, which made Draco extremely cheerful to have at least one person on his side at the moment, even if that person had no real knowledge that he was choosing a side.

"The same for me, I think," Potter said, making Draco's eyes jump to him. It was startling to find that Potter had been staring at him the entire time instead of taking any interest in the gorgeous woman beside him.

Nodding, Draco stood and went over to the bar, which was made out of a dark birch and situated on the wall that held the door. He went behind it and began to bring out the finest bottle of firewhiskey that they had. As he was beginning to fill up the first glass, he heard a little cough that immediately set his teeth on edge. He set the bottle carefully down before looking up and smiling tightly at Astoria, he said as politely as he could manage: "Did you want something to drink, Astoria?"

Smiling up at him, she chuckled lightly and nodded. "Of course, dear. Could you mix me a Dragonfly, please?"

"It is definitely within my power to do so," Draco responded, trying rather hard to keep all annoyance out of his voice. He then continued to fix both glasses of firewhiskey without exchanging another glance with Scorpius's mother. Once they were topped off, he went around the bar to hand them both to their respective owners before heading back to mix Astoria's drink and pour his own.

He was just finishing the making of her drink when the door to the drawing room opened again. In stepped a rather severe looking woman with long blond hair and sharp blue eyes. His mother went straight for the two guests and greeted them warmly, "Welcome to my home, Mr. Potter. I trust my son has treated you well today. May I ask though, who have you brought with you?"

Potter blinked and smiled, falling right under the spell that Draco knew his mother was able to cast on anyone. She just had this way about her that made everyone in her vicinity calm and comfortable. "This is my godson and your sister's grandson Ted Lupin." He introduced, nodding at the young man.

His mother faltered for a moment at that and stared at Lupin for just a moment too long for polite conversation. "My…sister's…?" She swallowed, not seeming to understand.

"Yes, Andromeda Tonk's grandson," Potter explained more, and by the look of him, Draco thought he was prepared for this kind of reaction from the Malfoys. Of course, he had just had to practice with Draco earlier; something that Draco was still not entirely enthralled about.

"Oh dear," His mother murmured, exchanging a meaningful look with Draco that he knew only he could understand in the room, though Astoria might have picked up at least a bit of it over the years. She was worried and he knew why. His father was due any moment and was not expecting a blood-traitor's kin in his house. She then turned back to Lupin and smiled softly, "It is very nice to meet you, Ted, if I may call you that. It really has been too long since I have seen my sister; I trust she is doing well?"

Lupin actually blushed at being addressed like that and nodded sheepishly, "I prefer Teddy, actually, and she's doing fine. Last time I talked to her, she had bought a new telescope and decided to plant a new garden based on star constellations."

"That's rather interesting. Gardening has become one of my favorite activities in the last few years. I might try something like that eventually. However, if you'll excuse me, I need to go let my husband know that you have arrived safely."

She smiled at Lupin in as gentle a manner she could manage before moving to go back to the door. However, just as she was about to open the door, it opened for her to admit the one person Draco had been most dreading: his father. "Do not fret about informing me, Narcissa dear. I thought it was about time to meet the guests Draco brought home." He spoke graciously as he swept into the room, wearing one of his finest robes. Luckily, Draco timed it perfectly; at the very moment his father's face started to quiver in annoyance, he moved forward into the room and handed out the remaining drinks.

"Father, here is your gin. Why don't you sit down over by Mother and me so that we can make our guests feel as comfortable in our home as they would in theirs?" Knowing full well how far-fetched he sounded, Draco stared hard at his father until the man chose to obey instead of causing any commotion. It was all he could to do to hope that this obedience would continue, not that he thought it actually would.

It was silent for a few cold moments, and Draco found himself for the first time wishing that Astoria would say something frivolous just to break the silence. However, even she was busy staring at her drink and moving the stirring rod around, obviously feeling that she had somehow found herself in a very awkward position. Swallowing his wine hard, he turned and grimaced pointedly at his mother. This was, after all, all her doing and so she should take responsibility for it.

Acknowledging his grimacing plea, his mother smiled and turned her sharp, cautious eyes from her unhappy husband to the two awkward-feeling Gryffindors. "So, Mr. Potter, it has been so long since I last had a chance to see you. Tell me, how has life been treating you?"

Potter looked up from his firewhiskey and over to Draco's mother, looking slightly bewildered. Draco had to admit that it was probably because the two of them had most likely never had a proper conversation and his mother was trying to make it sound like they were old friends that had merely just lost touch. "Well, Mrs. Malfoy, it has been going very well, I suppose. I married Ginevra Weasley and raised four children, one of which is currently in the same year as your grandson at Hogwarts. I also work under Minister Kingsley as head of the Auror department. How…how have you been?" Potter tried, obviously uncomfortable though Draco had to commend him for only faltering twice and managing not to say 'err'.

"How long have you been Head Auror, Mr. Potter?" Draco's father cut in before his mother could answer Potter's question. Draco could feel his heart sinking to somewhere near his stomach. For once, his mother was going to be wrong. This was not going to work and Lucius Malfoy was going to ruin everything Draco had somehow achieved today.

"Ten years, sir," Potter responded curtly, though Draco could see that Potter's hands had tightened their hold onto his glass.

"Wow! That's an awfully long time. You must've been the youngest Head Auror ever." A sweet, girly voice piped up and everyone turned to stare at Astoria, who was smiling innocently at Potter. Draco had never been more grateful for her in the entirety of their marriage than he was at this moment.

"I w-was…I mean, I am. I was given the post when I was twenty-seven. Though, at the time, there weren't a lot of older Aurors around to take Robards's place." Potter spluttered over himself and tried to make sure that he had enough excuses to cushion himself against any unfair judgments that might be being made of him for his youth.

"Surely there were _some_ older Aurors left, though?" That was his father again – disapproving eyes never leaving Potter's form – and just as suddenly as it had come, Draco decided that he wasn't grateful for Astoria anymore as she had brought up the fact that Potter was a young Head Auror.

Potter frowned and adjusted the Auror robes he was still wearing before taking another sip of his firewhiskey. "There were some, yes, sir. However, even after being asked by the Minister personally, none of them wanted the position." He said so sharp that Draco began to wonder how much longer until the food would be ready, just so he would have something to do with his hands.

"Well, if you have been doing the job successfully for the past ten years, then you must be the right man for the job. Speaking of jobs, what do you do now that you've graduated from Hogwarts, Teddy?" His mother cut in before her husband could ask any more sensitive questions. Draco could see that she was beginning to get nervous that this whole evening would go disastrously wrong by the way she glanced at him with a slight apologetic look in her eyes. Resigning himself to the worst, Draco sat with both hands on his wineglass and his eyes trained on the burgundy liquid.

"I'm a glassblower; I make glass objects in a dragon's flame and then alter them with magic." Lupin explained, his tone one of surprise, which was most likely because he had not thought he would be addressed so soon.

Draco heard the two women in the room take in a gasp of air in awe at the answer and wanted so badly to get to the point where Potter gives his mother the jewelry case and Astoria gets nothing. He could just imagine the look on her face now. However, before that point could be reached or, in fact, before anyone could say another word, a loud snapping sound erupted inside of the room. Draco looked up and saw Ruthie standing in the middle of the drawing room looking slightly harried.

"Misses and sirs, dinner is being ready in the main dining room," She announced and then promptly disappeared again.

Both looking extremely relieved, Draco and his mother stood and she smiled at their two guests as she said, "Well, that is just lovely. I will definitely have to ask you more about that soon. Though, for now, I do believe we should move our little party to the dining hall so that we may fill our empty stomachs."

Potter and Lupin both nodded and then they too stood up, followed closely by Astoria and Draco's father. However, before any of them could move towards the door, Potter took a step closer to Draco's mother and smiled tightly at her. "Mrs. Malfoy, before we go to eat, would you like to see some of my godson's work? I bought a piece of it earlier to give to you for setting all of this up for me."

Draco watched his mother in glee as she actually appeared taken aback by the offer. He took the moment between her shaky nod and Potter's retrieval of the interestingly wrapped package to glance over at Astoria. His wife was frowning and glancing between her mother-in-law and the Savior as if waiting for one of them to realize that Draco's mother was not the only woman in the room. "Oh, Mr. Potter. You definitely shouldn't have! My, it is absolutely stunning. If I may ask, what does it do?" Draco turned back around just in time to see his mother completely unwrap the glass snake and start to run her fingers along the reptile's neck.

Potter opened his mouth to presumably answer, but it was Lupin that actually responded to the question, "It is made out of unbreakable glass and stores all of your jewelry for you inside of its stomach. It will listen to you and you alone if you give it one strand of your hair. This way, no one besides you may have access to your jewelry. Be warned though, it is tempermental. It will bite anyone that tries to steal its contents and it only accepts the highest brands of jewelry, though I presume the last one will be no trouble for you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh, that is so kind. It really is a lovely piece. Thank you very much, both of you." She said graciously, her eyes and fingers so completely absorbed in the beauty of the complex piece that Draco felt the need to give a small cough to bring her back to reality. She looked up at the noise and set the snake carefully down on a nearby end table before glancing back towards the others. "Well then, shall we?" She asked, and then she walked towards the door and went straight through it. There was a slight awkward pause after she left and then the rest of the party followed her.

The six of them made their way through a few corridors before turning into a lavishly decorated dining room. The room's length was much longer than its width to accommodate the immense table, which was made out of the finest beech wood and painted solid black. Along the longer walls were hung black sconces that were spread evenly throughout the room. They were not the main giver of light, however. That was the diamond chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the exact center of the room.

They all moved towards the table, and Draco's father immediately took his seat at the very head of the table. His mother sat on his father's left, and he sat on his father's right. Both he and his mother beckoned the guests to take seats beside them, leaving Astoria to sit on the other side of Potter.

"Mr. Potter, what would you like to drink?" Draco's mother asked sweetly once they were all settled into their seats.

Potter glanced over at Draco's mother with a curious expression that Draco found rather adorable. It was somehow a cross between bewildered and embarrassed, making Draco wonder just what was going through that bushy head of his. After all that had happened thus far, Draco thought it might not be something polite, but given that this was the hero, he had a hard time thinking that Potter could be cruel at all.

Feeling his face start to heat up, Draco shook his head to clear it of the offending thoughts, and then immediately turned to his father, expecting a disapproving scowl to be on the man's face. However, what he found was altogether worse. His father wore a calculating expression that Draco had only ever seen when his father was concocting something really nasty for someone. They may have made it to dinner but Draco somehow doubted they would make it to dessert.

"Now that we're all settled, Teddy, do please tell me more about how you make such beautiful pieces." Draco's mother said with a false note of cheer in her voice that Draco very much doubted anyone besides he and his father could catch.

"Well, it isn't altogether that difficult to make pieces like the serpent case once you have acquired the skills to work with the fire. However, most wizards that work in this field use a more stable fire, wizarding fire for example, than I do." Lupin began as Grita, another of their house-elves, came in with all of their drinks.

"What sorts of fire do you use then, Teddy?" Astoria piped up as Grita disappeared back into the kitchen.

"I use dragon fire," said Lupin. "I trained under my Uncle Charlie to be able to take care of dragons properly, and then I got permission from Minister Shacklebolt to keep a small one with me. The fire isn't at all stable to work with, but it makes for much finer pieces and they have magical properties woven into them that can't exist without those flames."

"And no one else has one of these dragons?" Draco's father asked sharply, making every eye turn to the man at the head of the table. His eyes were narrowed and frozen on Lupin's face, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Yes, sir. That is correct." Lupin said and Draco dropped his gaze back towards the table where his pumpkin juice was now sitting.

"Of course you are," Draco heard his father say, heavily implying something rather nasty.

"How about we begin the first course?" His mother asked suddenly and then, before anyone had a chance to respond, rang a small bronze bell which was sitting next to a couple small silver and gold bells on the table. In response to the bell, Ruthie and Grita popped into the room carrying trays of salads, which they then placed in front of each person sitting at the table. Then each of them bowed before popping out again. "Wonderful. Now, everyone please dig in."

Draco picked up his salad fork and stabbed a couple pieces of lettuce with it while thinking about what he wanted so badly to do to his father at the moment. He placed the forkful into his mouth and swallowed before looking around the table to see that everyone was doing practically the same thing. He then shook his head slightly and set the fork back down on the table. "Auror Potter, if I may ask, what does your wife do now that she is no longer with the Harpies?" He asked, failing to come up with any topic that would actually be useful to him.

Potter looked at him with something akin to pain for a moment before he seemed to come to himself and, surprisingly, closed off all emotion. Was the Weaslette a touchy subject? That didn't seem right at all. Draco glanced over at Lupin for any sign of confirmation but the boy was busy attacking his salad, seemingly oblivious to the conversation. "Ginny works for the _Daily Prophet_ now as the head quidditch reporter. She finds it enjoyable, though not as much as she did when she was actually playing." The words were lacking the passion he usually found in people like Pansy who loved to spill her guts about all the wonderful things her husband did. Although, this was Potter, a man that had gone through rather a lot in life, not a woman who still acted like a schoolgirl. However, Draco would have at least expected some sort of joy in talking about his wife. After all, she was the love of his life, right?

"Well, we cannot all do our dream job forever. We eventually have to get old enough to be shoved behind a desk, which is where we are now." Draco responded, feeling foolish about his word choice, though what he would've liked to say – 'She's really fallen off her broom if she's working for that piece of trash paper,' – probably would not have gone over well at all.

"That is too bad for her, but I was never put behind a desk until the day I retired. I am sure you feel my sentiment, Mr. Potter. You are, after all, still running around trying to catch our kind, are you not?" Draco was very glad that he had not reached his lips with the cup he had just picked up, or else he might have choked into his drink. As it was, he felt every hair on his body stand up in alarm. His startled grey eyes lifted up to catch his mother's blue ones and he knew immediately by how hard her fork was pressing into the last piece of lettuce on her place that his father had just begun.

To Draco's immense relief, it seemed Potter was not as much of a fool as he had been in school. "I am not sure exactly what you mean by your kind, Mr. Malfoy. However, I assure you that though the majority of my cases are classified, none of them involve people as solitary as yourself."

Draco heard his father take in a sharp breath, and swallowed a bit of his pumpkin juice before anything else happened. His mother, however, took a much more hurried approach to steering away from this topic. "It seems everyone is done with their salads, so how about that entrée?" She said mostly to herself before ringing the silver bell. Both Astoria and Lupin jumped at the sound, and Draco realized that both had been attempting to avoid eye contact with everyone else at the table. Draco did not exactly blame them; he had been trying and failing to do the same thing the entire time.

As the salad plates disappeared to be replaced with clean empty plates, the house-elves reappeared to set the feast in the center of the table. It would have looked wonderful and reminded him of the feasts back at Hogwarts if Draco had not been concentrating on the fact that his father and Potter were still staring at each other with their noses flared, as if waiting for the right moment to make another strike. Once the food was settled and the house-elves were gone again, the tension eased just enough for everyone to fill their plates with their preferred entrées. Potter, Draco noticed, took just the right amount from every platter to be able to fill his plate completely. However, it was there that his manners ended, for instead of meticulously eating each bite like he did, Potter took too big bites of everything and even had the audacity to mix the foods on his plate to where it looked like slop instead of the intricate meal it was.

Happy that Potter was able to eat so easily, Draco was able to pile his food on his plate without worrying for the moment. He was so close to forgetting about the man sitting on his other side that he had food halfway to his mouth before the man's words brought him back to reality in a heartbeat. "I think you do know what I mean by our kind, _Mr._ Potter."

"I apologize. Did you mean rich purists that do not know how to have a pleasant dinner without constantly referring to their status, or were you referring to the Mark on your arm?" Potter finally snapped back, and Draco could see from the flush on his face how angry he was becoming. Perhaps the rash boy Draco had known was not buried underneath so far as Draco had imagined he was. "Because, either way, as the person who forgave both of those traits publicly in front of the Wizengamot, I feel I have the right to decide whether or not I want to treat you as if you have them. Right now, I'm trying to enjoy a dinner here because your wife kindly invited me and I feel as if I should get to know the family that raised the boy that my son wants to be friends with. Is that a problem, _Mr._ Malfoy?"

"Scorpius wouldn't dare be friends with someone as tainted as your blood-traitor family is," said the man that Draco wished was not his father.

Draco watched in pain as Potter stood up, followed reluctantly by Lupin. "Well, apparently he has _dared_, Mr. Malfoy, because my son and he are _best_ friends. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe it is time for us to leave. Thank you very much for dinner, Mrs. Malfoy. It was lovely." Then he was leaving. He was walking down the dining hall and Draco knew all of his pitiful hopes were leaving with him. He glanced at his mother and watched her nod once to him before he jumped to his feet and rushed after the dark-haired man.

The two men were already at the end of the next corridor by the time Draco had left the dining hall. He ran after them, feeling foolish and reckless and hopeless all at once. He kept chasing them but did not catch up until they were in the entrance hall. "Wait, Potter!" He called out. "Potter…Harry, wait."

Presumably at the sound of his given name, Potter halted his steps and turned around to face Draco. "What do you want, Malfoy? Nothing you can say will make me go back there." The words were like daggers stabbing into Draco's heart.

"Potter, he didn't mean to. He just gets like that sometimes. He can't help it. He's…" Draco realized he was practically begging when he noticed the green eyes turn from molten lava into hard stone.

"Are you really defending him to me, Malfoy?" Potter growled, his anger making Draco shiver like a lost puppy.

"No, I was just…he was…" Lost for words, Draco felt himself caving in as Potter's eyes grew harder and colder. The laughter from that morning seemed ages away.

"Of course you are. You're just as bad as he is. How could I be so stupid as to think you might have turned yourself around just because Scorpius seems like a decent human being? You were always just like your father, and you still are." And with that, Potter stormed outside of the door and disapparated with his godson. He was gone.

Potter was gone. Harry had left. It was all over. It hadn't even begun. Draco felt his knees touch the floor and he crumpled up there, holding himself. His tears were as silent as the golden bell that hadn't had a chance to ring.

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**Review, review, review? Please? I promise that if you review, I'll get the next chapter out faster. Plus, I really want to know what you guys think about this chapter.**


	7. Cat Fight

**Here you go guys. Err, bit of a warning on this one. Harry is in a real temper, so he will curse a bit. Also, try to be easy on him when you judge certain things. He lives in a world where homosexuals are an oddity and viewed as something close to rotten (close to how several countries still view homosexuality today, just a little bit behind).**

**~Croweh**

**P.S. This chapter is dedicated to Aya Diefair, because she saw the reference two chapters ago. **

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Chapter 7: Cat Fight

_Dear Dad,_

_ I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. I've just been so busy with school and Scorpius is obsessing over getting me to have good grades. Well, him and Rosie. Oh, right. Rose is now talking to me again. She hangs out with me all the time now, though she still hates Scorpius. What's worse is that Scorp feels the same way about her. It is really annoying to be in the middle of it, but it is even more annoying that the only thing they agree on is that I need better grades. It's not my fault. My grades are decent; they're just geniuses. _

_ Anyway, the reason I'm writing is that I wanna know if Scorp can come home with me and James for the holidays? We were talking about it a lot, and it sounds like a lot of fun. Lily will get to meet him and I'm sure everyone will see that he's a good person when they get to know him. Please please please? He doesn't have to stay for the whole break, but at least the beginning of it? Please?_

_Love you forever if you do this for me,_

_Al_

_P.S. Happy Halloween!_

Draco Malfoy's name flashed up at him from the mahogany desk, scorning him for acting like a foolish child. Over a month had passed since that disastrous evening and all he had heard from the other man was strictly about business. He had agreed to the man's terms for purchasing the invisibility solution with barely a glance at the actual contract. It had turned out that face-to-face contact was not even necessary for an order like this. At least, that was how this transaction was being carried out because he was still not even sure he could handle seeing the other man's face at the moment.

To make it worse, Hermione wasn't speaking to him. She had chewed him out severely about a week after the incident and when he had not seemed keen on relenting his sour attitude, she had taken the woman's approach of the silent treatment. Too bad for her, he was not her husband and so did not feel the need to hear her voice every single day. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. In truth, he missed her. She was one of his best friends and whenever he needed advice, he would usually go to her. Now, all he had was Ron, and he was not much better than he was on figuring things out. Plus, Ron was upset with him as well for making Hermione distressed, though he took a very different approach than she did.

Ron had this thought in his head that he was perhaps the most subtle thing out there, when, in fact, he was actually probably the most blunt. Therefore, he had been trying really hard since Hermione had instigated her silent treatment to figure out what was wrong between the two of them. As neither Hermione nor Harry had brought up the subject of Malfoy's existence to Ron since seeing him at the train station back on the first of September, his guesses were rather off and with each day grew more and more wild. Currently, he was at the stage of blaming himself for his two best friends' problems.

However, perhaps the thing that bothered him the most right now was the way Ginny was acting. Ever since Harry had come home raging about how horrible the Malfoys were, she had been absolutely gleeful. Sure, she had not mentioned that family since and she certainly seemed sympathetic to his plight, but that just made it worse. Ginny was happy because Harry's old obsession had come to nothing. Ginny was happy because Harry was no longer defending the troubles of the past. It made him absolutely furious when it should have made him happy that she was on his side about how horrible they had treated him.

And then there was Albus. His son, who had written him every day for the first two weeks of school, had not written him since what he had dubbed as the disaster. He was worrying constantly about him and if he had found out about what had happened through Scorpius. Had Malfoy told his son how awful he had reacted? He didn't know. What he did know was that he couldn't very well trust the Malfoys anymore. For less than two weeks, he had fantasized again and again that they were old enough to get over their past and perhaps become friends, a thought that had been encouraged completely by Hermione. However, one evening with them and he realized that his hopes were wrong from the start. They both might have aged, but obviously Malfoy was not willing to give him a second chance if he was going to blame him for the prejudices that still existed in this world.

It made no sense. He, Harry, had worked every day of his life to try and erase the prejudices of the past, even going so far as to stand up for the death eaters he caught as an Auror. At first, it had seemed the Ministry and the _Prophet _were on his side, but as time went on, the mourning and whining masses became too much for even Kingsley to try and see his side. The people wanted every death eater killed or, at the very least, put in Azkaban forever. Their "Savior" became an enemy's friend and the rumors that he was going to end up being the next Dark Lord came back with worse and worse ferocity until Kingsley had been forced to remove Harry from the field for a couple of years. It wasn't Harry's fault that people were still like this! It wasn't.

Then why did he feel so horrible? His best friends were upset with him, even if one of them didn't know completely why he was upset. His son had not written to him in over a month. His other son, James, had not even written back when Harry had tried to end the feud between him and Scorpius. Lily was spending more and more time at the Burrow, to where Harry barely ever saw her. Ginny was driving him insane with how gleeful she was about his plight but also because she had not kissed him in at least three weeks and she was spending more and more time out with her friends. However, even with all of that, the Malfoys, specifically Draco Malfoy, was on his mind the most.

It had only been one day, but it had been one day in about two and a half decades of knowing each other that they had not truly been horrible to each other. Sure, both of them had been completely uneasy throughout the entire day, but it was the fact that they had been able to spend that much time together that had mattered. It had been almost like making a new friend or meeting each other for the first time. They had been able to sit and drink together without either of them scorning the other. They had even been able to laugh together a little bit. It had been a whole new experience up until the dinner.

That was when Harry had realized that even though the day had been almost perfect, it had not meant anything. Malfoy had probably just been using his fame like everyone else to give his own dismal reputation a boost. That was most likely the real reason that he had listened to and followed Harry all day long when Harry had been foolish enough to think that he had perhaps wanted a second chance like he did. Harry had just wanted to try that handshake again as adults, but apparently that was a thought far from Malfoy's mind. It made him sick to his stomach to even think about it.

However, try as he might, Malfoy kept showing up even when his body wasn't physically present. For instance, he kept sending letters with his monstrosity of an eagle owl about the invisibility solution purchase and lately, even Teddy had been talking about the Malfoys nonstop. His godson had come up with all sorts of ideas on how to trick Andromeda into meeting with her sister. It seemed that even with the way the males of the family had acted, Teddy was determined to fit whatever family he had back into his life. This should have made him happy. Aftet all, his godson was finally getting the family he had always wanted. Instead, it just made him miserable because Teddy had succeeded where he had failed.

Harry looked down at his desk and glared at the offending newspaper whose headline read "Malfoy Divorce: The Fate of Malfoy Manor". Below the words was a picture of Draco and Astoria Malfoy glaring at each other in front of the Manor in question. The older Malfoys were nowhere to be seen and neither was the child of the two in the picture, though that made sense because Scorpius was still at school. The more and more Harry stared at the image, the more angry he got. He didn't even really know who he was angry with anymore. However, he did know that the fact that this divorce was quickly becoming a scandal was eating at his last nerves.

Dropping the unread paper into the trashbin, Harry leaned back into his chair and looked up at the picture hanging above his door. The picture was of his family and it served to just make him more upset, though bordering on the sorrow side this time. It had been forever since he had seen all of them. Charlie was living in Romania with his longtime lover, who he had yet to introduce anyone to besides Teddy, whose lips were sealed on the matter for some reason. Bill and Fleur had moved to France to help take care of Fleur's father, who had fallen ill two years ago and had yet to recover. Percy and Audrey visited every once and awhile, but they were currently living in Scotland, which was much too far to travel more than a few times a year with their very complicated jobs.

And then there were the kids. Teddy was the only one to graduate Hogwarts so far, though Victoire wouldn't be too far behind. However, with the parents so spread out, he had barely seen any of them except for at King's Cross Station in a long time. The picture that he was looking at was of the last family gathering where everyone had been in attendance. Lily and Hugo, the youngest, were about six in the picture and they were running around chasing gnomes with their cousins Lucy and Roxanne. The rest were being their characteristic selves from Mrs. Weasley threatening Bill with scissors to George helping James and Fred with a prank that would cause the pumpkin pie to explode within a minute after the picture was taken.

Harry dropped his gaze, feeling ultimately worse. What was he doing? He was alienating his two best friends and his wife, the only links he had to this beautiful family that had adopted him so long ago. For what? For further ruining a relationship that was already sunk deep in the oceans of his past. What is really worth it? Maybe he could try again with Malfoy, if it would make Hermione happy. He would have to stay guarded this time and not get too close to the rest of the family. After all, he definitely did not want his name to end up being added to the scandal of Malfoy's strained relationship. He could just imagine what the press would do if they found out he was trying to be friends with Malfoy, not to mention what Kingsley would do. As for Ginny, he would just not mention it to her unless she brought it up.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Harry stood up and was about to go to find Hermione when someone burst into his office. This someone was completely red in the face to match the color of his hair and looked rather startled by some horrifying news. "Harry! Did you know Malfoy is gay?" said the intruder who was, obviously, Ronald Weasley.

Expecting everything but the words that had come out of Ron's mouth, Harry stepped back and collapsed back into his chair, looking rather stricken. "Err, what?" He managed to get out, not entirely sure how to respond to that question.

"Malfoy, Harry! Draco Malfoy, slimey git we went to school with? Remember him?" Ron paused, frowning at Harry as if he thought he had gone mental on him. Harry reluctantly nodded in response, knowing that Ron wasn't going to continue talking unless he had Harry's full attention. Once he received it, Ron sat in the chair in front of Harry's desk and laid out an identical copy of the _Daily Prophet _to the one Harry had just thrown out without reading. "It says here in the _Prophet _his wife's divorcing him and asking for all he's worth, because he led her on and made her 'produce an heir to try and fix the hopeless situation that is the Malfoy name, while, in reality, he was constantly having relations on the side with random men he would pick up at bars'. Can you believe this? I could've sworn he was straight, especially with the way he was always snogging that pig-face Parkinson in school."

"Wait, is there any proof? This is the _Prophet_, after all. They've lied before." Harry said, feeling more nauseous than he had before when he had just been caught up in his own issues.

Ron looked disgruntled at that, as if a galleon he had found had ended up being leprechaun gold. He looked down at the paper again and said, "Well, the article says that in an interview with Malfoy's wife that she had found him on several occasions having relations with strange men on the Manor grounds, but had never brought it up before for fear of...stuff that I don't care about. The point is, the article says he's gay and I think the article is right."

"Why are you choosing to believe the _Prophet _now?" Harry asked. He was still very skeptical about this, but it was mostly because he did not want the _Daily Prophet_ to be right. It would bring up all sorts of thoughts and concerns that he really did not want to get into right when he had decided to give Malfoy another chance.

"Err, because it's Malfoy? Harry...are you okay?" Ron asked worriedly, and Harry found himself yearning for the days when his best friend had almost no perceptivity.

"Yeah, Ron. I'm fine. I just hate the _Prophet_, you know that, and I think everyone, _even Malfoy_, deserves their own say before being ridiculed by the media." He muttered, running his fingers through his unruly hair.

"Err, okay. Uh, anyway, about Hermione. Are you sure I didn't do anything wrong?" Ron asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Harry looked over at his best friend and sighed. Even after all these years, Ron was still frightened of Harry's temper and annoyingly enough, Harry couldn't fault him for it. After all, Harry was the one that was frustrated with everything and everyone at the moment. It was probably right to back off anything that might set him off. However, it didn't make him feel any less guilty about it. "Ron, it really doesn't have anything to do with you. Hermione and I are just having a bit of a disagreement at the moment. In fact, I was just about to go try and fix it when you walked in." Harry replied, trying his best to keep his voice calm and level.

"Oh, really? That's awesome! Don't let me get in your way. Go go go!" Ron grinned and shook Harry's left shoulder for emphasis.

Harry laughed and shook his head, standing back up. He shoved Ron lightly and then kicked over his chair, making his best friend tumble to the ground. Frowning angrily, Ron looked up at Harry from the floor and opened his mouth to complain. However, before he could get any sound out, Harry smirked and chortled, "What? You were getting up anyway, weren't you?"

"You prat," Ron grumbled as he grabbed a hold of the desk to hoist himself up to a standing position.

Bubbling up with laughter, Harry opened the door and left his office with Ron, still grumbling about not being as young as he used to be, right behind him. As soon as Ron was all the way through, his door shut and locked itself behind them as he had trained it to do several years prior when a group of trainees had thought it funny to sneak a few snifflers inside of his office while he was gone. Only a select few could enter when he wasn't in there, but irritatingly Ron was one of them and he sometimes enjoyed instigating pranks as well.

Harry and Ron moved throughout the compact Auror center until they reached Ron's desk, which was where they separated. Harry continued on until he left the center and entered the hallway of the second level. From there he turned left and headed towards the lift. Upon entering he spotted a young girl with blond hair that reminded him slightly of Luna before she had the twins. He smiled at her and leaned against the back of the lift as it took off. She blushed frantically and turned away, making Harry frown and long to retract his thought. She just looked like Luna; she wasn't like her at all though.

The lift dinged and the cool, soothing voice announced that they had reached the atrium. Harry got off the lift behind the girl and then headed directly for the line of floos on either side of the long hallway. He scrunched up his nose upon reaching the fire and grabbed a handful of floo powder. He then announced the location of where he wanted to go before dropping the powder into the flames.

A sickening swirl through the flames later and he was tumbling out of Hermione's fireplace. "Harry! What on Earth...?" He heard her cry out in shock as he started to stand up and brush himself off. Shaking his head free of soot and tapping his wand against his glasses to fix them for the umpteenth time, Harry thought to himself that he would never use the floo again, knowing full well that he would have to as soon as he was done talking to Hermione.

Once he was finished, he pointed his wand at the carpet around the fireplace, flicked, and it was immediately clean again. Harry then looked over at the woman sitting behind the desk and smiled sheepishly. "Hermione, I've decided to try to talk to Malfoy again if it'll get you to talk to me again..." He muttered, cutting right to the chase.

Hermione looked dumbstruck for a few milliseconds before jumping up and hugging him tightly. "Oh, Harry! You have no idea what this means to me and you have such perfect timing too!" She exclaimed, grinning ear to ear and looking like she might kiss him.

"Err, Hermione...what are you on about?" Harry asked once she had let go of him.

She bit her lip at that question and then let out a sigh, which just served to peak Harry's curiosity. "Erm, maybe you should sit down so I can explain." She said, making Harry more curious as well as a bit worried, but he did as he was told. However, she didn't start at first. She turned away from him to dig into a filing cabinet from where she pulled out a very large file. She put this and the edition of the _Prophet_ Ron had been obsessing about on the desk in front of Harry. Then, she too sat down.

"Harry, have you read this article?" She asked first, indicating the headline with her pointer finger.

"Err…not completely. I know the gist of it though," He murmured as his face flushed, knowing full well what she thought of skimming written words.

Hermione looked frustrated at his response, but somehow she let it slide without even the slightest reprimand. It was eye-opening for Harry, to say the least. Whatever was bugging her must be really important to her. "Well, I suppose that will be enough for now. What did you make of it?" she said, letting her nails dig into the paper as if she wanted to tear it to pieces where it lay.

Not wanting to offend her in any way possible now that he had just gotten her to start speaking to him again, Harry settled on what he had told Ron, "I think anyone that the _Prophet_ writes about deserves their own say before their life gets ruined by the media."

The resulting smile was so big that Harry was half worried that Hermione was going to fling herself at him. Therefore, when Hermione did scoot a bit closer, Harry leaned back in his seat. Sometimes, Hermione could be scarier when she was happy than when she was upset as someone. This just happened to be one of those times. As such, she clapped her hands together and laughed a little to herself as she picked up the folder and plucked through it, looking for who-knows-what.

Finally, she found whatever she was looking for and started muttering – not unlike Dolores Umbridge had done back in fifth year – "Perfect, perfect. This will work brilliantly. Now, I just need to find the loophole…" She trailed off and began shuffling through the papers again; making Harry more and more fearful of what she was planning for him. Nevertheless, he let her carry on for a while more before he found he just couldn't take the pressure and opened his mouth to let her know he was still there. Before he could say anything though, she looked up at him and grinned mischievously. "Harry, I want your help with one of my cases." She finally said and Harry could hear the period quite plainly. There was no question that he was going to do whatever it was for her, regardless of his personal opinion.

Desperate to find any way out of this, he started, "But aren't your cases usually confidential…?"

"Usually, yes. However, this one has given me permission to let in anyone I know that could actually be trusted to help, though the client was very doubtful I could find someone, for obvious reasons. He clearly did not count on you being trustworthy, but here you are. Oh, I can't wait to tell him!" She rattled off excitedly as she went back to shuffling through the papers in the folder.

"Err, Hermione? You've lost me," He said, feeling rather out of the loop when it came to how fast Hermione's brain worked.

"Draco Malfoy, Harry! Remember, how I told you he was divorcing his wife and I agreed to be his lawyer? Oh, Harry. I thought I could handle this; I really did. Everything was going so smoothly, and Astoria seemed to be agreeing to all the terms I gave her, but then this happened. She went behind our backs and gave that horrible slime-bag of a paper the best scoop she could possibly come up with. No, she not only wants the house anymore. She wants everything down to the fortune and Scorpius. Merlin only knows what she even wants with the kid." She practically shouted down his throat, leaning forward so much that he could almost swear the desk was digging into her ribs.

Leaning back more, Harry was beginning to see where this was going and he did not like it one bit. Getting to know his former enemy to help her get to know his personality was one thing. This was out of bounds; this was going too far. He would never agree. He couldn't. Ginny, not to mention Kingsley, would throw a fit and he might lose his job. This was ridiculous. She was asking too much this time. Swallowing his insecurities, he decided to play dumb and see if she backed off at least a little bit. "Hermione, okay! I get it, but what does this have to do with me?"

She paused and took in his expression before responding, "Do you promise not to get mad?" He just glared at her. "I need you to use your name." She stated simply and leaned back in her chair, her smile faltering slightly.

"No," Harry refused. He was not going through this again. After so long of being tormented by the press just because he was the Boy Who Lived or the Champion or the Chosen One or The Savior, he had finally reached a point where people would politely look away when they saw him instead of staring at him like he was under a microscope. There was no way he was going to volunteer to go through that again.

Hermione's face fell momentarily before lifting again with a new ferocity that literally made him shake in his seat. She wasn't going to give up. No one ever said no to Hermione. It just wasn't done. "Harry, you know I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important. Astoria will take everything if you don't help, though. Malfoy has the entirety of the Wizarding World against him because of his past and with this going public, the only possible way for them to even think about letting him keep Scorpius is through your blessing." She pleaded, her eyes doing that horrible begging thing that had gotten him and Ron to join S.P.E.W.

"I'm not a saint, Hermione!" He rebutted, crossing his arms to signal that he wanted this conversation dropped. Unfortunately, Hermione was not Ginny.

"I know you're not, Harry, but the public will listen to you. They love you,"

"Are you insane? Don't you remember Rita Skeeter? She made them all think I was mad for a good year before Fudge saw Voldemort. Plus, just a few years ago they were attacking me for being too soft on the Death Eaters. What do you think they will think if I come out to be best buds with Malfoy right after this horrible article was printed? I'm not gay, Hermione!" He raged at her, but to his dismay, she was actually smiling when he was done.

"Ah, so now we are getting to what you're really nervous about. You're worried about being _contaminated_ because Malfoy may or may not be gay." She stated matter-of-factly, making Harry even more furious because she was actually partially right.

"I'm not worried about that! Dumbledore was gay and that never bothered me." He cut back, annoyed by what she was suggesting.

"Yes, but you didn't know that until after he died, did you?" She responded, leaning back in her chair with a bright, knowing smile on her face that made Harry even more upset. He was beginning to forget why he had even come here in the first place. Her silence was so much better than this side of her.

"I named Al after him," He snapped back quickly.

"Fine, so you weren't worried about Professor Dumbledore. However, Malfoy is an entirely different case. He's your age and so is a prime subject for contaminating you." Hermione relented just slightly before cutting in again.

"Will you stop it with that contaminating bullshit?!" Harry yelled, standing up and taking a couple of steps towards the fireplace while glaring daggers at her.

Hermione finally looked worried and softened her expression greatly as she said, "Oh, Harry. I didn't mean to upset you, but you have to see what is really bothering you before you can take the steps to be rid of it."

"The only thing I'm upset about is the fact that you–"

"Oh, sorry. Am I cutting in on something?"

Harry whirled around on his heel to see Ginny's head floating in the fire with a guilty expression planted on her face. He huffed and shook his head, taking a few steps back to lean on Hermione's desk. "No. Go ahead, Ginny," He muttered at his shoes.

"Oh, well, I was actually looking for you, Harry. I checked the Ministry, but they said you weren't in your office, so, obviously, the next place I thought was here." His wife explained in her most gentle voice, which had been designed over the years just to calm Harry down when he exploded like he was on the verge of doing now. Sighing, Harry let himself be soothed by her voice and then nodded for her to continue. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that Lily will be staying at my mum's tonight, and I'll be going out for a few hours."

Harry felt himself go from angry to calm to depressed in the matter of seconds as she talked. She was going out again. He wasn't going to see her or his daughter today. Again. Harry felt all of his earlier worries come back to sit on his shoulders, pressing him down with a sorrow as great as Atlas's burden. All of this was going to ruin him if it kept up for too much longer, but he didn't know how to stop it. He couldn't very well tell her no because she was free to do anything she liked. After all, she was her own person and he had no right to force his presence onto her.

Swallowing down his emotions and pasting a smile on his face, he looked the face in the fire straight in the eye and said plainly, "Yeah, that's fine. I'll probably be staying late in the office anyway. They've swamped me with paperwork again."

She grinned broadly, said a quick "That's great," and then disappeared into the flames as quickly as she had come. After she was gone, Harry shivered slightly and crossed his arms across his chest before turning back to Hermione. He could see worry etched into her features as plain as day and decided that the one thing he did not want right now was her sympathy when she had been the least sympathetic person in the world just a few minutes ago.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, her hand held out as if wishing to comfort him but not knowing if it was wanted or not.

In return, he just glared at her and nodded forcefully. "I'm fine, Hermione. It's just been a rough week, so would you mind backing off of this for now?" He stated between his teeth, trying his hardest to keep his voice neutral. She looked rather put out by his words, but, all the same, she did nod in agreement. "Thanks, Hermione. I'll be going now," He said and then turned towards the fireplace where Ginny had just been. He picked up some floopowder from the flowerpot on the mantelpiece and stepped into the fire. He looked over at Hermione and smiled crookedly for her benefit before throwing the powder into the flames and whirled back towards the Ministry.

A few hours later, Harry found himself again staring at the image of the two divorcing Malfoys. He had tried again and again to focus on his work, but had so far only gone through about ten reports when he had roughly fifty of them to do today. It just wasn't happening. Every single time he tried to focus, his mind wandered off in one of two directions: Ginny or Malfoy. Currently, his mind was centered on both.

Malfoy was divorcing his wife after co-raising a child for eleven years. Harry couldn't help but think why that was. Sure, they had seemed not to get along very well, but they were at least civil to each other when he had been at the Manor. Astoria had seemed like a nice enough woman, who had done her part to try and keep things lively. It made absolutely no sense to him why that same woman would go so far as to out Malfoy to the public just to get everything he was worth. Had their marriage been that bad?

On that subject, what made a marriage bad? Sure, Hermione and Ron fought sometimes, but at the end of the day, they always seemed to be happiest when they were around each other. They were a perfect pair. Were he and Ginny the same way? Harry frowned at the paper on his desk and thought that he had not been truly happy to see Ginny in a long time. They had been fighting so much lately that Harry was having trouble remembering the last time they had even gone out on a dinner date. It did not really help either that she was spending more and more time away from him; as if he were infected with something she was afraid she might catch.

Maybe Hermione was right. Was that what he really was worried about? That he might see Malfoy and start thinking gay thoughts? No, that made no sense. He had fought with the other man since they were small and he had not once thought anything of the sort. It didn't make sense that just because Harry knew Malfoy was gay that he would start seeing him differently. If anything, it would be their attitudes that would change the way he viewed his formal rival. He was not worried about contamination at all.

Then why was he still thinking about it? Harry shook his head and leaned his head against the palms of his hands. This wasn't going to work. Maybe he should just go home. He glared at the paper before throwing it back in the trash bin, and then started to organize the various folders holding all the cases for the past few weeks. Once he was done, he glanced at the watch the Weasleys had given him on his seventeenth birthday and shrugged. It was late, but not as late as it usually was when he stayed overtime at work. Maybe Ginny was home and he could actually spend some alone time with her for once.

Sighing, Harry moved slowly out of his office with the ten folders he had been able to get finished and didn't stop moving until he heard the familiar lock of the door behind him. He then moved about the desks, placing the folders where they belonged for their owners to find them in the morning. Once he was finished with his nightly routine, he left the Auror area and locked up behind him. Then, turning on his heel, he disapparated.

He ended up on the top step of Grimmauld Place by habit and turned the knob on the door. It flew straight open, so Harry knew that Ginny was home. They never left the house without locking the door, but they also never locked the door once they were inside. The house itself was so fortified that when they were here, he could feel any cause for alarm in the wards without even moving. Speaking of which, he felt something strange about the house as he moved down the corridor after shutting the front door behind him.

Was there someone else here? Harry frowned as he continued to move forward, not recognizing the aura of magic as someone he knew. Perhaps Ginny had brought home a friend to talk to for a few hours. She had done that a couple of times over the years when her friends needed her. However, the aura trail did not point to the drawing room or even the kitchen. No, it pointed upstairs. Getting worried that there might be an intruder that Ginny had not noticed, Harry rushed up the stairs two at a time and followed the trail all the way to his bedroom.

He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Strange. The locking charm was a simple one though, so he easily removed it from the door. Becoming increasingly worried, Harry opened the door slowly and entered the dark room. However, he immediately wished he had decided to stay later at work. He should've done more on those reports. He should've even thought about Malfoy a little bit more rather than see the sight before him. He heard her voice call his name, but he was leaving. He had to leave. His feet carried him back to the first floor far quicker than he had just gone up. He had to get out of here.

He had nearly reached the front door, when her voice beckoned him to stop and somehow, his feet listened to her. His ears didn't want to though and neither did his eyes. He continued to stare longingly at the front door, wishing his feet would just understand his need to flee. "Harry! It's not what you think," She cried and he felt a glimmer of tears welling up in his eyes, but he still refused to look at her.

"Harry, please! Look at me," She pleaded and pulled on his arm to turn him around. Harry looked at her, but he didn't see her. He didn't see Ginny, his Ginny. He didn't see the girl that he had pined after for months in sixth year. He didn't see the woman that he had married or the woman that had given him his three beautiful children. All he saw was a woman that had betrayed him, a woman that had gone against every promise she had ever made, a woman that he suddenly found that he despised.

"What do you want me to say, Ginny? That I understand? That I'm fine with this? Because I'm not fine, Ginny! You've been pushing me away from my children and pushing me away from you for over a month, and now I come home to find you with some other guy in _my_ bed! This _can't_ be fixed, so don't even try." He growled, surprisingly at a level tone. He was so angry that he couldn't even muster up the will to actually yell at her. He loved her and she betrayed him.

"Harry, I was going to tell you, but"

"But what? You didn't think I could handle it? You thought I would hurt you or kill _him_? Because Ginny, you've gone too far this time." He hissed, feeling every cell in his body heat up from what he wished he could do to her but couldn't because he still cared about her.

"I know I have, but Harry, we can work through this. I just…I just couldn't help it."

"What kind of excuse is that? You've destroyed everything we've made in one single act, and you can't even justify it to yourself! I'm leaving, and when I come back, you better be gone." He threatened before flinging open the door and walking out into the night, feeling as if his entire world had just shattered into a million tiny pieces.

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**So, that's it. All the Ginny haters should be happy for now. Remember, if you want me to upload faster, get me those reviews! I want to know what you guys think.**


	8. The Troubles of a Dragon

**Guys, thank you so much for all the reviews! It really means a lot to have so many of you guys give your thoughts. Oh, and if people were wondering about the time-skip, we are now in the very beginning of November (last chapter was Halloween). **

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Chapter 8: The Troubles of a Dragon

_Dear Father,_

_ I saw the _Daily Prophet_ yesterday, and I just want to say that I love you no matter what those people say about you. You are the best father ever, and Mother had no place to say what she did. It was cruel, and if I have to go to court and tell people that you are a good person, then I will, because you are. Everyone has been asking me recently if you really are "gay", but I have told them over and over again to mind their own business. Personally, I do not care if you are. You can love whoever you want and it will be fine with me._

_ Anyway, now that that is said, I wanted to ask you something really important. Albus and I have been discussing winter break and we would like it very much if I could go home with him for the beginning of the break. I know you and Albus's family are not on the best of terms, but I still wanted to see his house and meet his sister. I know this is a really tough time, but could I perhaps still go there just for a little while?_

_Love always,_

_S. Malfoy_

_What is taking so long? Surely they are almost here. He's the bloody Savior for crying out loud! Why aren't they moving faster? _Draco thought as he paced in front of the medical ward. He had been there for about two hours and there was still no sign of the returning healers or Potter's supposed friends. It was taking every ounce of his control to not burst in on the ward to make sure the healers were doing everything they could to heal the man. _What if they don't find it? What if he loses his left hand for good?_

Worry crept down his spine as he continued to pace. Usually splinching accidents were taken care of quickly and easily, but it was night and the staff at the hospital was smaller than usual. Who knows if they'd actually be able to find his missing piece. Not to mention, he had no idea if that was the only piece he had left behind. What if he had left behind something vital like a lung or his spleen? Somewhere in his brain, the logical part of him was saying over and over again that they were doing the best they could to help him. However, his long underused emotional side was having a nervous breakdown.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you like some tea or perhaps some calming draught?" A passing nurse asked him kindly, though he could see the way her eyes kept flashing to his covered left arm.

"No, I don't." He responded tersely. "What I would like is to know what is happening with Auror Potter." He very nearly snapped. He was breaking. He needed to snap out of this before he hurt someone. His emotions had not been this out of control in a very long time, but for some reason, he couldn't figure out how to turn them back off now that they have decided to go haywire.

"I'm very sorry, sir. I am only allowed to inform Mr. Potter's family about his condition unless they tell me otherwise." She replied calmly, obviously used to irrational behavior, and then bowed her head slightly before carrying on with her duties.

Draco went back to pacing. This was ridiculous. He had been the one to bring Potter here in the first place. Shouldn't he be allowed to know of his condition? Just because he wasn't family did not mean he wasn't worried. In fact, his so called family had not even shown up yet, so there was no one even to tell or ask. Though, he supposed he should give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, Weasley and Granger still had one kid they would have to find something to do with in order to come here. As for the Weaslette, she had not even responded when the healers had tried to get in touch with her.

Just as he was about to start on his thousandth lap across the strip of hallway in front of Potter's ward, he heard his surname being called out. Draco turned to see the two he had just been thinking about running towards him still wearing their night things with robes hastily thrown over them. "Draco, I'm so sorry we're late. We tried to get a hold of Ginny, but we couldn't find her anywhere and then we had to get Ron's mum to take Hugo without too many questions, which was an absolute nightmare. How's Harry?" Granger spewed out as soon as she had gotten close enough to where she could stop, but, like him, she seemed to just want to continue moving.

Finally having someone that could share at least a bit of his worry close by, Draco stopped his pacing and felt his hard shell crack under her gaze. He was so worried and he was afraid that she could see it and even more afraid that she would understand it. "I don't know. Why don't you ask one of them? The healers will not let me even see him, much less know of his condition." He responded as he tried desperately to hide how much he was falling apart inside from the stress of the situation.

Too late. He could see the recognition in her eyes. She knew. She knew everything just from the way he looked. He wanted very much to break down and cry for the smartest girl in his year had found out his secret. However, he couldn't. Potter was still there. Potter was still hurt. He needed to stay strong, so that he could help out in any possibly way he could. Draco turned away from his lawyer and walked slowly to the plastic chairs sitting along the wall across from the ward. He then slowly sank into one and let his head fall into the palms of his hands.

Vaguely, he heard Granger giving Weasley instructions to go ask about how Potter was doing, but then she was sitting beside him. She seemed hesitant at first when she reached out, but then her hand was rubbing along his back in soothing circles. Somehow, it felt nice. For once, it didn't matter that she was a muggleborn and he was an ex-Death Eater, or she famous and he infamous. All that mattered was that she knew and she was still willing to try and comfort him; it was perhaps the most sincere and heartfelt thing that had happened to him in a very long time.

"Draco, I know you're upset, but could you maybe…tell me what happened?" She asked softly as she slowly withdrew her hand from his back only to place it on his arm. He shivered slightly at her touch before leaning his head back against the wall, his eyes staring at the white ceiling as he tried to recall clearly what had happened.

He had been at Pansy's place for a few hours to cool down after the horror that had been his day, what with Granger sending multiple owls after the appearance of what Astoria had done showed up in the paper. He could not say that he really was too surprised. He had known she had been planning something like this, but he had not known she would actually take it that far, what with their son being at Hogwarts at the time. Needless to say, it had been a dreadful day with people, including his coworkers, staring at him as if they were seeing him for the first time. Due to this, he had ended up drinking with Pansy and Theo until late into the night.

Not trusting himself to apparate even though he was only slightly tipsy, Draco had then chosen to walk home. It had been a clear enough night, and the weather was still nice despite the incoming winter season. There had been nothing to suggest that his walk home would be disturbed at all. In fact, he had almost made it home without anyone even seeing him, except a cat that had hissed at him before rushing off. However, as soon as he had been within eyesight of the front gate, the air in front of him had warped and out dropped Potter.

The man was obviously drunk because he kept moaning about how he couldn't believe something had happened or muttering about how he, Draco, could possibly be gay. Shocked, Draco had immediately stopped in his steps and grabbed a hold of the man to try and get him steady. At first, Potter had rebutted his advances, trying to run away, saying over and over again that he didn't want any part of it and something about betrayal. Then, though, the man had fallen to the ground and started to throw up on the sidewalk.

Worrying had already started to settle in by then and was just getting worse as Draco settled down beside the man and started to try and help him up. It was then though that Draco noticed that Potter's entire left hand was missing, and he was bleeding steadily from the stump of his arm. What was almost worse was when Potter stopped spewing up his guts, he had turned to Draco and had asked simply, "Do you love me?" right before Potter's body had given up on trying to stay conscious. Draco had then picked the other man up and apparated the two of them to St. Mungo's without another thought. That had now been nearly three hours ago.

Draco frowned and shook his head before turning to Granger and responding to her question in a much more simplified way, "I was walking home when he apparated in front of me. He was drunk and clearly very upset, but he was missing his left hand so as soon as he passed out, I brought him here."

Granger nodded thoughtfully before moving her hand down to interlock her fingers with his. It was strange for him to be this close to someone other than his mother or Scorpius, but it really felt like she was trying to tell him to trust her and for some unfathomable reason, he truly felt like he could. He squeezed her hand to let her know that he was okay with her closeness, but still did not look at her. All he wanted right now was to find out that Potter was going to be okay, so that he could go curl up in bed and get lost in his nightmares in peace.

He was on the verge of falling asleep right there with his head against a hospital wall and his hand wrapped around with a muggleborn's; it really was somehow comfortable after the stress of his day and the worry at the end of it. However, as the clock sounded to let him know that his miserable day was finally over and that a new one was beginning, voices and movement could be heard coming down the hallway. His eyes followed the direction of the sound to spot three healers racing towards them, one of them holding a white bag that seemed to be stained with blood.

He let go of Granger's hand and stood up immediately, not sure what he was going to do with himself, but wanting to be of some use to Potter. He took a couple of steps forward, but a hand on his arm caught him before he could go much further. He turned back to see Granger smiling sadly but shaking her head. "They found his hand. Everything will be fine now. They don't need us anymore. You should go home." She said softly as she squeezed his hand one more time before moving away from him and towards the ward.

Draco wanted so much to cry out that he had just as much right to see Potter well and alive as she did, but he knew what she was saying. Potter would probably wake up and not remember what he had said or done, or even who had saved him. No, Potter would just be irritated at his presence here. After all, Draco was the one Potter had yelled at and scorned for still having his father's old prejudices just over a month ago. Draco had no place here, and yet, he still couldn't help asking, "Can I really not see him?"

In response, Granger grimaced sadly at him and took a step forward to squeeze his shoulder slightly. "Not right now, Draco. I'm sorry, but it really wouldn't go over well. Look, I'll let him know what you did, if that helps at all." She promised, and though Draco knew he was being foolish for wishing for more, he sighed and nodded in assent before turning away from and taking a few steps towards the exit. "Draco, I really am sorry," He heard Granger say right before he turned on his heel and disapparated.

He appeared inside of his bedroom and wanted very much just to crawl in bed and let his nightmares fly over him, but someone was blocking his way. His mother was sitting in the plush chair at the end of his bed, dressed in one of her finer nightgowns and letting her blond hair flow out around her shoulders. By the look on her face, he could tell that she had been immensely worried about him and that she could tell he had had a rough night. She stood and stepped lightly up to him, placing both of her small hands on either side of his face. "Do you wish to tell me about it now or later?" She asked softly.

"Later please," He muttered, his eyes struggling to stay open now that he was so close to his silk sheets that he could almost feel them on his skin. Thankfully, she just nodded, kissed his forehead, and then left the room, shutting the door behind her. He felt so tired and worn from the day that he was barely able to remove his shoes before he collapsed onto his bed, closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.

He was at Hogwarts. Specifically, he was in an empty broom cupboard on the fourth floor that he knew quite well. He was lying on his back on the floor staring up into the face of Blaise Zabini, whose dark cheeks were flushed considerably. He supposed he should have been uncomfortable in that position, but instead, he chose to feel nothing. There was nothing special about being here. It did not mean anything. After all, Blaise was not the person he wanted to be there with him, so with Blaise, it was just like had it been someone he did not know.

Blaise leaned down and made a noise that might have been a squeak or a gasp or somewhere in between; he did not know nor did he care. It was not until the other boy's lips actually grazed his skin that he thought about what he was doing at all. He did not want this. He did not want him. It wasn't right. He had to be somewhere else, with someone else.

Draco was just about to lean forward to push his friend away and tell him to forget all of this, when Blaise suddenly said something. "Do you love me?" No, that wasn't Blaise's voice at all. It was _his_ voice. Draco blinked and Blaise's face turned into the face of Harry Potter. That was when Draco screamed. Unfortunately, that was also when the scenery changed. He was now at the quidditch pitch and, instead of Blaise, some Ravenclaw in the year below him was with him.

The boy laughed and dragged Draco underneath the stands, seemingly feeling elated and excited to being doing whatever they were doing. Draco didn't know; he just went with the flow. After all, what was his life compared to someone with a greater purpose? He still followed the boy until he was nearly encased with total darkness. His eyes were failing him at this point, but he could feel a hand reaching out to touch his face, his arm. Draco let out a hiss and turned away from the boy, ready to run back into the light. How dare he touch the Mark?

"Do you love me?" That question again! Draco turned around to face the boy, but what he met was an empty Great Hall. Well, it was empty but for exactly one person. This person was the Dark Lord and as he turned towards Draco, he could see that the snake-like man was holding onto Potter in a death-like grip. Draco made eye contact with Potter, who simply asked the question again.

"Let him go!" Draco cried out to the Dark Lord, feeling completely helpless in the face of his master, but still wanting to do anything he could for that boy, that man.

"Do you love me?" Potter asked again while the Dark Lord remained silent, his grip not loosening though his red eyes seemed focused elsewhere.

"Potter, run away!" He tried to tell the boy, but he found his heart was beating to rapidly to fully force the words out. The Dark Lord was distracted; if only Potter would just take this chance, he could get away from this place.

Instead, Potter just asked it again in that same, slightly slurred voice. Draco could not take it anymore. He ran forward to help Potter get away, but before he could touch him, the Dark Lord lashed out and Potter was falling. He was dying. The Dark Lord disappeared and Draco knelt in Potter's blood, wishing that there was some way to save him.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes! Yes, I do! Please don't die!" He cried, tears pouring down his face. However, Potter was already gone.

Draco awoke in his bed, fully dressed and on top of the sheets. Groggily, his eyes gazed over to the incoming daylight from his window and let out a yawn. He shook his head to try and clear it, but ended up just rolling over and planting his head back into the pillow. Surely no one would miss him if he just laid there for a few more moments. After all, he usually woke up way too early for work anyway. There was absolutely no way a few seconds of peace would make him actually late for anything.

He dug his head further into the pillow as his arms clung to the sides and his legs bent in the most comfortable position he could possibly manage. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine when he would go pick up Scorpius in December for the winter break. Yes, that would be the next happy moment for him to look forward to. His son would be ecstatic to have a few weeks off of school and he would try to figure out a way to spend as much time with him as possible. It would definitely be the best time to just relax and be happy.

However, try as he might, he just could not make himself go much deeper into his fantasy of seeing his son again. He was too…something. Was it hot? He wasn't even under the covers, so why would it be that hot in here? Surely no one had even given thought as to the temperature of Draco's wing, so it could not possibly be that. Uncomfortable, Draco turned over again and glared at the sun. It was somehow causing enough heat to make the room toasty. That should not be possibly if it was only eight.

Suddenly worried, he turned over again and looked at the clock on his nightstand. Eleven twenty-one. Shocked, Draco immediately jumped out of bed and started stripping out of yesterday's robes. He grabbed a new set of pants and tripped over his own feet on the way to his bathroom. Once in there, he took a shower as fast he could, tripping and hitting various parts of his body against stone in his haste. How could he sleep in that late? Creevey was going to kill him. He _hated_ dealing with Mrs. Samone and Draco had had an appointment with her at nine today!

Turning off the water, he shot a quick drying spell at himself before struggling to pull on all of his clothes. Once he was done, he glanced in the mirror and glared at his hair. "Now, that's a rat's nest," The mirror not-so-kindly informed him. Groaning, he tried his best to make it do what he wanted, but eventually, he gave up and apparated straight into his office. Strangely, everything seemed very quiet here. He was sure that Mrs. Samone would still be making a fuss about Draco not being there, or at least, he was expecting some sort of attack by one of his juniors asking him where he had been.

Instead, the only thing he found was a note spellotaped to his schedule sitting on top of his desk. The note stated very clearly in Creevey's handwriting, "You owe me". Frowning, Draco peeled away the note and immediately groaned. The spot where he had written Mrs. Samone's name earlier that week was crossed out and in the previously empty five o'clock spot was the name George Weasley.

Slumping into his chair, Draco slowly closed the planner before looking up at the chaos that was his office. Feeling too tired to really care, he lazily lifted up his wand and flicked it as usual to get the papers to sort themselves. When all of the parchment had settled themselves in their respective spaces in his office, he reached forward to grab the first sheet. He had just been able to read the topic of the report when there was a knock on his door. Frowning to himself, he sat up and straightened his robes and hair before answering that whoever it was could enter.

The door opened and in came Creevey, who looked considerably annoyed, not to mention stressed. "I thought I heard you come in. Your mother flooed earlier, saying that you were sleeping in because you weren't feeling well. At first, I was inclined to just believe her because she's Narcissa Malfoy, and Narcissa Malfoy is always right. However, then I started to think to myself and remembered that you haven't taken a sick day in your entire life, excluding your third and sixth years of school of course. In fact, the last time you were ill, I remember having to literally drag you to St. Mungo's to get healed because you were sneezing acid all over your paperwork. So, why were you late?" His vice-executive said as he walked into the room slowly, his eyes glancing at each pile of parchment singularly until he looked up and glared at Draco as he finally asked his question.

As soon as Creevey had mentioned his mother, Draco had known exactly who was at fault for his not waking up on time. His mother had most likely sneaked in early this morning as he was sleeping to remove his alarm enchantment. That woman had no end to what she wouldn't do when she thought something was right. However, Draco had little time to really think about what he was going to say to his mother when he got home, because Creevey was still glaring at him and his short, ragged nails were currently digging into Draco's beautifully polished desk.

"My mother most likely removed the usual enchantment I use to wake myself up in the mornings when I have early appointments like today," He muttered, not coming up with anything else to say for himself in the face of his rather upset co-worker.

"And why would she do that?" Creevey asked, obviously not believing him from the way he still looked like he might burn Draco's whole office for what he had had to go through this morning.

"Perhaps because I did not arrive home until around one in the morning," He responded, suddenly not feeling that well as he recalled the events of the night before.

Creevey finally frowned and released his hold on Draco's desk before asking, "One in the morning is late with you people?"

Draco scowled at him.

"Okay, okay. Why were you out that late?"

"Did you not see yesterday's _Prophet_?" Draco asked as a way to try and block his own memories…of worry…pain…sorrow. No, last night didn't happen. It just didn't. He went home from Pansy's and that was it. No Potter. No Granger. Nothing.

Creevey suddenly looked incredibly sheepish and he even took a step back or two as his face reddened a bit. "Well, yes, I did, but I thought you were taking it well. You seemed okay yesterday, at least." He said, his voice growing increasingly worried as he tried to say something that would not upset Draco in any way.

Shaking his head, he forced a smirk to his face and nodded to his co-worker. "It's nothing. You got me the best lawyer in Great Britain, so as long as Attorney Weasley does her job, it will all be fine. When's my next meeting with her, by the way?" He asked to change the subject, not because he actually wanted to know when he would next see Granger. In fact, he would be happy if he never saw her again after what she had found out last night. _No. Last night didn't happen, remember? Keep it that way. _He thought to himself, annoyed that his brain kept traveling back to that.

Creevey thought for a moment and then frowned while shrugging his shoulders. "No idea. You'll have to consult the _great, all-knowing_ Madam Vina for that information, and while you're at it, you might also want to see what our _beautiful_ Ms. Carlton wants." He chuckled as two sounds happened simultaneously. One was a curse that came from the hallway and the other was a cough that came from behind him.

Suddenly annoyed, Draco turned around to glare menacingly at Ms. Carlton's head in his fireplace. It looked like he had two female spies among his employees. Both of which would have been caught sooner if his mind was in any right state of being. Vaguely, he heard Creevey say he was leaving and his door close behind him, but his attention was mostly on the woman's head in his fire. "Is there something you needed, Ms. Carlton, or are you just intent on sticking your nose in conversations that are none of your business?"

Draco very much hoped, for her part, that the fact that her cheeks were reddening was due to her embarrassment rather than the heat of the flames. "Oh, um, there was something," she murmured as if she had forgotten. In the distance, he thought he heard the chirp of an owl, and then her face she seemed to light up like a remembrall. "Oh! That's it. An owl came for you, Mr. Malfoy. Would you like me to send it up?"

"Usually that is what I would like, yes." He responded shortly, feeling all of his calming bolts loosen one by one.

She grimaced, nodded once, and then his flames were once again clear of any human heads. He let out a sigh and was just about to lean his head back against his chair when the owl she had mentioned began to peck at his window. Shaking his head, Draco stood and made his way over to it, where he opened the glass pane and let the bird swoop in. As it flew by his face, his nose automatically crinkled up at the atrocious smell.

He stepped up to his desk, the bird having landed on top of his pile of important documents. Once he was close enough, one of its beady black eyes glanced at him disapprovingly before sticking one yellowing leg out for him to remove the letter. He did so carefully, not wanting to actually touch the foul creature. As soon as he was done, he noticed a crest tied to its other leg and immediately knew why the creature was so poorly cleaned. It was Hogwarts owl and, if he remembered correctly, that owlery was perhaps the dirtiest part of the whole castle.

When he stepped back from the screech owl, it spread its wings and flew immediately back out the window through which it had come, obviously under no orders to wait for a reply from the receiver. Curious now, Draco held the letter tightly in his left hand as he went and shut the window before returning to his seat. Delicately, he peeled open the first letter his son had sent to him in over a month. At first, Draco had been worried that Potter had said something to his son to make Scorpius upset with him, but as time went on, those worries disappeared. Even if Scorpius had become upset, there was no way he would not write for this long because of something like that. His son was too kind for that, much kinder than he was.

Now, Draco was intrigued as what could have prompted Scorpius to start writing again. However, as soon as he gently pulled out the top sheet of parchment and began to read, he was back to how he had been feeling yesterday. If Granger did not come up with something that would actually work soon, he might get some people together to make it look like Astoria's death was an accident. She definitely would deserve it after this one. It did not even matter that she had attacked him; it was the problem that because of her attack on him, Scorpius would be even more lost among his schoolmates. What she was doing was not fair to her son, but then again, when had she ever thought about what was good for Scorpius?

Shaking his head and forcibly pushing that thought aside for now, Draco went on to the second paragraph and blinked. Frowning and rubbing his eyes, he read the paragraph again to see if he had just read it wrong. No, it was still the same. It was horribly innocent in theory, but everything about it hurt his chest. The request Scorpius was making was not only impossible; it was impractical. His head began to pound as he tried to think of a way to tell his son no while his memory kept throwing horrible images at him. Potter on the ground bleeding. Potter grinning ear to ear in the tea shop. Potter accusing him of being his father. It was all so wrong. There was no way he could say yes to this. It just wasn't going to happen. At all. Ever.

Feeling incredibly guilty even though he had yet to write a single word in response, Draco shoved thoughts of Potter back into the chest in the back of his mind though try as he might, he couldn't find the lock. Where had it gone? The lock had always been there before. It had been what had helped him get through so much. Now it was missing and Draco had no way to keep his unwanted thoughts at bay. Feeling completely at a loss for what to do anymore, he placed the letter down on his desk and reached for the second piece of parchment he had known would be there.

As soon as Draco unfolded the parchment, he gasped in awe. It wasn't just the usual drawing Scorpius attached to his letters to hold more of a personal sentiment. No, Scorpius had learned how to charm his drawings to act as pictures in the paper usually do. As he watched the scene his son had drawn, he wanted so badly to take back his earlier thoughts and say yes to this boy that cared so much.

The scene opened with a green dragon that had glistening gray eyes and a lowered head. Its wings moved slightly, but they were drooped low and close to the dragon's body, while the dragon's spiked tail was curled close as well. As he watched, the dragon seemed like it was growing closer and closer to crying though it never let a single tear fall. When it seemed like it would not be able to hold on much longer, a gray scorpion appeared on the parchment and wrapped itself around the dragon's paw as if to give some sort of comfort to the larger creature. That was when the tear finally fell and the dragon bent lower so that the scorpion could comfort it more. However, then a chimera appeared on the corner of the parchment and the scorpion glanced at it with longing while still be attached to the dragon.

The scene ended and Draco felt a tear of his own fall only to land on the exact spot where the dragon's tear had fallen. His hand immediately went up to cover his mouth as he leaned back in his chair and nearly choked on the tears that he was trying to force back down. Scorpius was really worried about him and there was nothing he could say that would sooth the boys worries, nothing except permission to go to the Potter's, because then Scorpius would know that Draco could still be strong. The only problem was that Draco did not know if he could be strong anymore. It seemed ever since Scorpius had gone off to school, everything had just started to fall apart as it hadn't since he was sixteen. His son was his anchor and without him, Draco was going to drift off into the storm.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_ I feel I must thank you for your kind words, but please do not think it necessary to worry so much about my well being. After all, Mr. Creevey was able to get your friend Albus Potter's aunt to be my lawyer, and she has yet to lose a case yet. That being said, everything will be fine in the end and so there is no reason for you to spend your time thinking about me when you should be studying for your upcoming finals. Remember, I expect top marks in everything._

_ As for going to the Potter's for the break, that is fine with me as long as you come home by the New Year. However, that choice is mostly up to Mr. and Mrs. Potter because it is their home you will be staying at, so make sure they are entirely fine with you staying there. Even if Albus wants you there, that does not mean everyone in the family will want you there as well, so be as kind and courteous as you possibly can if you do get permission to go._

_Best regards,_

_D. Malfoy_

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**Wow. I really need to stop ending these things with such sadness. Hopefully there will be a happy chapter coming up soon, but for now, I really kind of feel guilty for putting Draco through all of this. Anyway, this chapter was a little shorter than the last few and I'm sure you all wanted to see the exchange between Draco and George, but I do have something planned, so you'll have to deal with me. Remember: review! Review! Review! And I promise I'll try and write faster.**


	9. An Unwelcome Visitor

**Hey guys! That wasn't too long of a wait, was it? Just a bit over two weeks, I believe. I probably would've gotten this chapter up faster if last week hadn't been Spring Break, though. I definitely enjoyed doing nothing for an entire week. I kind of forgot what relaxing feels like, if you know what I mean?**

**Anyway! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**~ Croweh**

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Chapter 9: An Unwelcome Visitor

He supposed the building was impressive. After all, it was incredibly tall, mostly made of glass, and even had a pointed top. However, he had not come here to admire the architecture. In fact, the architecture of the building had been perhaps the very last thing on his mind when he had decided to come here. Now, though, he couldn't quite recall why he was here in the first place.

When he had woken up this morning, he had found himself at St. Mungo's where his two best friends had been waiting frantically for an eternity, or so Ron had complained when he had asked. Hermione had been altogether gentler in her approach, most likely because she was feeling bad about how she had treated him yesterday. Despite knowing the reason behind it, her soothing words and declarations that everything was going to be fine did wonders for him, especially because somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was suppressing something horrible.

However, neither Hermione nor Ron had explained what had happened to him immediately. When the healer had realized that he was awake, he had come in and told him that he was to lay off the alcohol for a while and to practice apparating short distances for at least a week before doing so for any further than that. From this and the fact that he now had a slight pale ring around his left wrist, he had been able to gather that he had splinched himself while he had been drunk last night. Somehow, he had been able to block exactly the reasons why he had been so plastered from his mind even then.

After he had been released with a note for Kingsley that said he wasn't supposed to do any field work for a week – a note that Kingsley would never see if Harry could help it – and a stern warning about the dangers of apparating while sloshed, his two best friends had offered to side-along apparate him home. However, his entire body had grown rigid at the thought of that place for some reason and he had immediately asked them if he could stay at their place for a while instead. Their expressions had shown great concern at this request, but neither of them chose to voice their thoughts, thankfully. What they did choose to do was to agree to his request and a moment later, the three of them were in Ron and Hermione's living room.

Harry had then sunk into their couch and watched them quietly as they attempted to go about their lives with his presence there. Ron had immediately disappeared as soon as Harry had sat down without even a word as to where he was going. Hermione, on the other hand, moved steadily throughout the kitchen, placing supplies for their brunch on the counter as she went. He had thought about asking to help, but as soon as he had opened his mouth, something painful clawed at the inside of his skull and he sank lower into the couch, clutching the closest pillow to himself. He knew something was wrong, but, at the same time, he very much did not want to know what it was.

He had sat there, staring at nothing for what seemed like forever, when he vaguely heard something that sounded like "Daddy!" before he felt a weight land on his lap as small arms worked their way around his chest. He looked down at the nine-year-old girl and suddenly felt something wet falling down his face, something that was not supposed to be there, especially not in front of this girl. This girl whose long, straight red hair and big brown eyes almost exactly mirrored the way her mother had looked when he had first seen her. This girl who meant everything to him, but now was a horrible reminder of what had occurred last night.

"Daddy, why are you crying?" Lily asked worriedly, her small hands coming up to wipe the tears from his face, something that he should be doing for her, not the other way around.

In answer, he just wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, wishing somehow that everything would be alright and that she would never have to know why her father was crying. He just wanted her to stay innocent for just a little longer. Was that too much to ask? Perhaps so. After all, he could not keep it a secret forever and he would have to explain it to everyone anyway very, very soon. However, maybe he could hold on to the fairytale for just a little longer, just long enough to where he could find the right words; the words that wouldn't hurt as much.

Harry had held his daughter to him for a few minutes and just shook quietly as he tried so hard to stop his tears. After a while though, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see Hermione smiling softly at him. "Lily, you should go play with Hugo and leave your dad here to help me with the food." She suggested, poking the young girl softly on the forehead.

Lily let out a soft giggle and grinned up at her aunt but then immediately frowned as she looked back into her father's face. "Daddy, are you going to be okay?"

"Of course I am, sweetheart. I just had a very rough night. You go play with your cousin and I'll come and join you once your Aunt 'Mione releases me." He smiled at her, the tears finally drying on his face as he was able to push aside thoughts of the night before for now. He would have to be strong for her, Al, and James. If he wasn't, he just couldn't imagine what would happen, but he knew it would probably not be good.

With a strangely serious expression, Lily nodded, kissed Harry's cheek, hugged him once more, and then raced off around the corner to Hugo's room. As soon as the form of his daughter had disappeared from view, Harry had let out a sigh before forcing himself to his feet and then over to the kitchen where Hermione was busy chopping up green onions the muggle way. "Where do you want me?" He asked upon entering.

"You can start on the bacon," She said simply as she moved on to dicing up some tomatoes.

He nodded to himself as he reached into the cabinet next to the stove where he knew she kept the frying pans. He took one of the bigger ones out and sprayed it with Mrs. Gertrude's Best No-Burn Spray before setting it on the stove to warm up. Harry then went and opened up the left pantry, which was always kept at a chilly temperature by a freezing spell. He reached in and found a mound of bacon just waiting to be cooked. Knowing Ron's appetite, Harry grinned to himself as he took the entire mound with him back to the counter.

As soon as he started to hear the spray sizzle a bit, he began to place enough bacon into the pan to fill up the entire bottom of it. Yes, this was relaxing. No matter what the rest of his adopted family thought, he felt most comfortable when he was in the kitchen with Hermione doing nearly everything the muggle way. It was, after all, how they had both been raised and try as he might; he had never managed to get the hang of cooking with magic. It seemed much too precise for his brand of magic. Hermione, on the other hand, could cook either way and have the food come out perfectly. In fact, she cooked so well that several of the people in their family had suggested plenty of times that she open up a restaurant; a suggestion that had not been met with enthusiasm.

"Hand me a plate and some paper towels, would you?" He requested as he watched the bacon sizzle in the pan; a spell by his own doing was making sure nothing sprayed out of the pan as the bacon cooked.

Silently, Hermione passed him what he had asked for and they continued on that way for a while. Eventually, Hermione stopped cutting vegetables and put them and the eggs she began to crack into a bowl on the counter next to him. As he started on his fourth batch of bacon, she placed a frying pan on the stove and poured the egg mixture into it for them to cook. "Hermione, I know you want to know. Just ask already," he finally broke the silence as he flipped over his bacon.

He watched her smile out of the corner of his eye, but, surprisingly, it wasn't an amused smile. She was worried and Harry couldn't blame her after all that had happened. He was not the kind of man to just go get plastered in the middle of the week for fun. No, Hermione knew something bad had happened, but for some reason, she hadn't asked him yet.

She was silent for a few more minutes but then, she sighed and shook her head. Her eyes glanced over to Harry and the words she spoke were not the ones Harry had expected. "Harry, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened and I don't really expect you to tell me right now, but I want you to know that I am sorry for how I've been acting recently. It's been wrong of me."

Grinning and even chuckling a bit, Harry abandoned the bacon and embraced his best friend in a tight hug. "It's okay, really. Thanks for saving me last night before I bled to death." He continued to grin crookedly until he saw Hermione's face falter at his words.

"Actually, I wasn't the one who found you." She murmured in a tone that confused him.

"Then Ron...?"

"No, not him either. Harry, you apparated in front of Malfoy Manor. Draco Malfoy was the one that found you and brought you to the hospital." She explained hurriedly, her voice growing quieter as she went on.

Harry was frowning. That couldn't be. Was she just making this up to get him to go be friends with Malfoy again? That didn't make sense at all though either, because she had just apologized for that. Was she telling the truth then? "Malfoy did?" He was able to get out, his mind still a jumbled mess.

Hermione nodded, but her smile was back to being incredibly worried. "He was there when we showed up two hours late. Harry, I think he was really worried that you weren't going to make it." She continued explaining and then bit her lip; a signal that he had learned meant she was keeping something from him.

"Then why wasn't he there when I woke up?" He asked, finding it difficult to believe everything she was saying.

She dropped her head at this and went back to concentrating on her eggs so that they wouldn't burn. Taking her lead, he went back and removed the batch of bacon from the pan and added in the next pile. It was then that he noticed he was out of bacon and that this would be the last batch. "Because as soon as the healers found your hand, I told him to go home and that you wouldn't be happy if you woke up and he was there." She finally responded without looking at him as she finished with the eggs and put them on low heat so they wouldn't get cold.

"Oh," was all Harry could think to say before the oven beeped and Hermione gasped, pushing him out of the way. Too used to this to really be surprised, he just waited as she opened the door and pulled out two trays worth of biscuits. She then placed these on the counter and let Harry remove the final batch of bacon before she levitated the bacon, biscuits, eggs, and a bowl of cut fruit all onto the dining table.

"Kids, breakfast!" She called out, and Hugo, Lily and Ron were so fast to their seats that Harry could've sworn they had apparated there. Laughing at the hungry look on Ron's face, Harry walked over to the table and sat down next to his daughter while Hermione sat across from him. Suddenly, all eyes were on Hermione, and she just shook her head and chuckled before saying, "Dig in."

The food had been delicious as always and afterwards, everyone had helped pick up until Hermione's cleaning charms had taken over. Then, Harry had spent the next several hours avoiding his best friends by playing with Hugo and Lily. However, not everything could last forever and the memories from the night before were steadily creeping back upon him until he had had to give up and get out of there before he burst. He had given Hermione and Ron some sort of excuse that he couldn't exactly recall and asked them to watch Lily before he had rushed out the door and, ignoring the healer's orders, apparated to where he was now.

Harry stared up at the sign that read "Palpable Potions" and cringed internally. Why was he even here? What did he expect would happen? That Malfoy would just forgive and forget how he had acted a month and a half ago? That just because he apparently saved him last night, he would want to listen to his problems? Was _that _why he was here, to talk about _her_? Shaking his thoughts aside, he decided that he might as well see what would happen now that he was here. After all, if what Hermione said was true, Malfoy might actually want to see that he was alive and well. This was the stupidest thing he had ever done, and that included the time he had tried to ask Cho Chang to the Yule Ball.

Shivering at the unwanted memories, Harry grumbled to himself about what an idiot he was and then walked forward through the sliding doors. Upon entering, he felt a pair of irritated eyes on him and he turned his head to see the woman he had consulted last time about seeing the executive. Strangely, he found that he couldn't quite remember her name. Shrugging, he walked over to her and smiled his best 'I am Harry Potter' smile. She wasn't amused.

"Welcome to Palpable Potions, Auror Potter. Did you perhaps want to make an appointment?" She asked in a falsely cheerful voice.

Taken aback, Harry tried a different approach. "Have I done something to upset you, Ms. –" He asked, suddenly feeling extremely out of his element here.

"Carlton, Auror Potter. My name is Melanie Carlton. As for your question, yes you have." She responded in a very clearly annoyed voice.

Frowning now, he tried again. "Might I ask what that is, Ms. Carlton?"

Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she seemed to come to herself and the same false smile was again placed on her face. "No, you may not. However, you may make an appointment, if that is what you wish to do."

Still not understanding how he might have offended this woman who he knew next to nothing about, he decided to just ignore it for now and actually do what he came here for, not that he knew exactly what even that was. "Actually, is it possible that I might be able to see Mr. Malfoy now?" he asked gently, wanting to avoid further irritating this woman.

However, it seemed that that was exactly what he ended up doing by the way her nails began to dig into her desk and how her false smile grew bigger. "Mr. Malfoy is a very busy man, Auror Potter. I very much doubt that would be possible."

Stubborn. She was a very stubborn woman. Too bad for her, he could be a very stubborn man when he wanted to be, and right now, he felt like being very stubborn indeed. "Could you still at least try?" He asked sweetly but his eyes were glaring.

She stared right back at him for a few more seconds before letting out a small groan and turning to face her fireplace. She tossed some floopowder into the flames and then stuck her head inside. Harry could hear her say, "Mr. Malfoy, I am very sorry to disturb you, but Auror Potter would like to see you." There was a pause and then, "No, sir. He doesn't want an appointment. He wants to see you now." Another pause. "Yes, sir. I will tell him." Then she removed her head from the fire and turned around to glare at him. "Mr. Malfoy says he will see you. Take the lift to the seventh floor and Madam Vina will direct you from there."

Taking this as the dismissal it was, Harry turned and headed straight for the lift. Once inside, he attempted feebly to flatten his hair before pressing the number seven button. Now that he was passed the lobby, he was finding it hard to justify what he was even doing. Malfoy was obviously busy and here he was, using his stupid name to try and see the man. It was ridiculous and crazy and stupid, but he was doing it anyway. Gryffindor, indeed.

The doors opened and he stepped out into the small hallway. In front of him were two doors with a desk and a rather severe looking woman in between them. The last time he was here, the desk she was sitting at had been empty so he didn't recognize her. However, he quickly assumed that she was the Madam Vina Ms. Carlton had mentioned. She strangely reminded him a lot of Professor McGonagall, but with a strong hint of Snape and maybe a dash of Umbridge as well. It was a odd mixture, but overall, it just meant that he knew this woman was not the kind of person that could be flattered easily, which was a problem since she was now the next obstacle he would have to go through in order to see Malfoy.

"Auror Potter, I do not believe you have an appointment," She said simply without even looking at him. Her sharp blue eyes were focused on the journal in her hands that looked like it might hold a calendar of sorts.

Still frazzled from his encounter with Ms. Carlton, he felt completely at his wits end and immediately babbled something that sounded like, "No, I don't. I…Ms. Carlton…erm, how did you," and then immediately blushed as her eyes rose and fixed him with an icy stare.

"How did I know you were coming, Auror Potter? There isn't a quill dropped in this place without my knowing. Misters Malfoy and Creevey may own this company, but without me, they would not know which way was up. Now, if you don't mind, would you care explaining as to what you are doing in this hallway without coming to me first with a request for an appointment?" She said, her eyes not loosening their hold on him while her left hand was busy scribbling something onto a page in the journal with a rather expensive-looking quill.

Swallowing down the urge to bow his head in shame, Harry built up all of the Gryffindor courage he could muster and responded, "Mr. Malfoy said that he would make an exception for me because what I need is too urgent for an appointment." It was a lie. It was all a lie. Would she see that? Would she see how desperate he was when he really had no real reason for being here? He didn't know why Malfoy would possibly want to help him, but for some reason, his gut was telling him that Malfoy was the only one who could.

He wanted so badly to flinch away from her and leave. There was no way even a fool would not see through his lies, and this woman was definitely not a fool. However, instead of calling him out on it, her mouth actually twisted up into a sort of smile that looked as if she were a predator that had found its prey rather amusing. It didn't make him feel any better. Finally, her eyes released her hold on him and she glanced down at what she was writing. Her forehead crinkled slightly as if she were confused by something, but then she let out a small noise that could have been a gasp before turning back to a page in the journal whose corner was tabbed with a green marker. She then took out her wand, which was knobby and most likely made out of dogwood, before tapping it slightly at the bottom of the page. There, the words that had been written in her hand disappeared. She then replaced her wand with the quill and wrote a short sentence that Harry couldn't make out before completely shutting the journal.

She then turned her gaze back onto him, and Harry had the sudden urge to turn tail and run despite the fact that he was generally more of a fight than flight kind of person. Madam Vina then pursed her lips in a way that strangely reminded him of Mrs. Delacour every time she had to stand in the living room of the Burrow. Her eyes stared at him for a few more precious moments, each of which felt like minutes to Harry, as she seemed to be deciding something. To him, he felt like he was being X-rayed and that she was seeing into the very pit of his soul without even needing to use a spell. It was unnerving to say the least.

Finally, she nodded slightly before saying, "I don't deal with time wasters, Auror Potter. You may talk to Mr. Malfoy about whatever is so important to you. However, if he tells you to leave, you leave. If he seems frustrated, you leave. If you upset him at all, I will personally escort you out. Trust me, Auror Potter. You do not want that. Therefore, if you wish to have your conversation last more than a few minutes, you should think before you utter a single word. Am I clear?"

Swallowing hard but still allowing a bit of hope to shine through, Harry nodded and, since she seemed to want more than that, said, "Crystal". She nodded in assent before swinging her arm out, which seemed to be the cue for the door on his left, her right, to swing open. He took in a breath to steady himself and try to sort out his thoughts before moving out of the hallway and through the open door.

The scene he walked in on was not one he had been expecting. In his mind, he had imagined Malfoy sitting at his desk with paperwork surrounding him on all sides as he went through each one at a time, possibly frustrated or, in Harry's delusion brought upon by Hermione's words, worried about Harry's well-being that he would maybe get upset at a name even closely related to his like Barry or something of that nature. His expectation was that he would walk in and immediately be either scorned or embraced, without anything in between. No, what he met was nothing like that at all.

For one, Malfoy was not alone. George Weasley, his own brother-in-law, was in the office with the blond. Second, instead of looking worried or frustrated, Malfoy was practically laughing his head off. Third, there wasn't a paper in sight except for one that was currently in the shape of a crumpled paper airplane and continually jabbing itself into Malfoy's stomach. Fourth, Harry did get his embrace but it was by George rather than Malfoy, which for some reason left him feeling slightly dejected. Finally, when Malfoy did eventually notice his presence, the laughing immediately stopped as his wand made a quick slicing motion at the paper airplane to make it fall to his desk where it did not move again.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as the three of them just looked at each other, waiting for the other two to speak. George was the first to break, never having the capacity for long silences since his brother had died. "So, Harry, how're you doing? I heard from Percy that you splinched yourself last night; said you lost your entire arm in the accident." He started conversationally, lifting Harry's arm as if expecting to find a chunk of it still missing.

Frowning, Harry just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I only lost my hand, not the whole arm. How did Percy hear that?" He wondered to himself, knowing full well how Percy had heard about his accident. The Weasley family could never hold a secret for very long. He wouldn't really be surprised if Fleur, who was all the way in France, owled him about it before the day ended.

"From Mum, of course. According to Perce, she was going to flood the hillside with the way she was crying. Reckon your kids will know soon too since Perce said Lily and Hugo were in the room at the time. Better squash that bug before you start getting letters from McGonagall saying your kids are begging to go home, well Al at least. James is too stubborn for that." George explained in far more detail than Harry had asked for.

Grinning, Harry opened his mouth to comment on the way his children would actually react, but was cut off before he had even begun by a cough. His head swerved around for the source of the noise and immediately his smile fell as he remembered why he had even come here in the first place. Malfoy was staring at him with an expression that Harry couldn't quite place but was almost certain that it had nothing to do with the goings-on of the Weasley family and everything to do with the events of last night.

"Oh, right. I'm in a meeting with Malfoy now, Harry. What're you doing here?" George asked as he seemed to remember what he was doing here as well.

"I'm here to…" He paused. He did not exactly want George to know why he was here. Just as with his splinching accident, anything he told to George would end up Weasley gossip within the matter of hours, and he still wasn't quite ready for that. "I'm here to talk to Malfoy about Christmas Break since Al and his son seem to want to spend it together." He said as smoothly as he could, priding himself on coming up with a decent excuse that wasn't a total lie. After all, he would eventually have to talk to Malfoy about that, but it wasn't exactly his first priority.

George blinked a few times and frowned, glancing towards the door as if confused by something. He had a strange feeling that he knew about how strict Madam Vina was about schedules, and Harry knew that his excuse wasn't good enough. For one thing, it wasn't important at all to merit coming in without an appointment. For another, knowing their past relationship, George was probably wondering why Harry would even want to talk about this face to face instead of just by owl. Thankfully, he let it go without any questions and turned back to Malfoy. "Hey, business is calling me. If you figure out how to get the strength of that solution down, have Dennis owl me, okay Malfoy? See you later, Harry." George saluted and then immediately walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Harry eyes immediately gravitated to Malfoy's grey ones. He wanted to know what the man was thinking so badly, but the eyes that bore back at him were devoid of all emotion. "Did you actually want to talk about the Winter Break, Auror Potter, or was there something wrong with the last batch of invisibility solution?" Malfoy asked professionally as he leaned over to pull out a file that had Harry's name on it along with the Ministry's seal.

With the absence of George, he could feel again the complete ineptness that had followed him from downstairs until now. Even trained as he was, he was still out of league with these people who knew just how to push any one of his buttons without even having to know him that well. In fact, it would have been infuriating if he had been in any right mind to think so. Instead, his mind was filled with the man before him, worrying completely if coming here was the worst decision he had ever made in his life. That thought led back to a certain ginger's face and he sighed internally, deciding that this was maybe not the worst decision after all.

His feet led him to the chair that George had abandoned upon his arrival and slowly, he sank into it as the man across from him did the same with his own chair. His eyes kept shifting from Malfoy's eyes to his hands and then back again, somehow expecting the neutral gaze to change when he looked back up the next time. However, after about maybe ten times of doing this, he gave up and sat back in the chair. "Neither, actually. I'm here about last night. Hermione told me what happened," he said finally, feeling like he might as well get that part of this conversation over with, so he could test the waters before plunging into the bigger problems.

"Oh? What exactly did she tell you?" Malfoy asked and despite Harry watching his eyes closely still, he could not catch even a glimmer of surprise or any other emotion, for that matter. It seemed Malfoy was hiding behind his wall a lot more now than when he had last seen him. He wondered briefly if that was somehow his fault.

Shaking away that thought to save for later, he grimaced slightly. "She said you found me bleeding out on the ground in front of your Manor, and then you brought me to the hospital. She also said that you stayed there waiting on me until she told you to go home." He responded, trying his best to follow Madam Vina's advice and think about each word before he said them. He was finding it rather difficult though because he usually based his word choice around the way people acted and Malfoy wasn't letting any reactions through currently. Thankfully, he was at least able to stop himself from saying "err".

"Yes, she thought it best that a former Death Eater as well as rival not be the first person you see when you wake up." There it was. It was small, but Harry could hear the way his tone stiffened slightly when he called himself a Death Eater. Malfoy was worried, but he was also feeling a lot of hurt that Harry, try as he might, couldn't understand. That was all he could get from it though, because his eyes were still emotionless and there were no other cues that Harry could take as a direction for this conversation.

"Well, I don't know about that, but I do have a question," Harry said, frowning. He did not want to step into the Death Eater area, especially when he was here trying to get some help, advice, and maybe even a sort of acquaintanceship if he was allowed it.

"I may have an answer," was Malfoy's short response.

"Why did you stay for so long after getting me help? You could've left as soon as the healers took over." He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral so as not to sound like he was trying to say he hadn't wanted him there, though he still wasn't exactly certain how he felt on the matter.

This question actually made Malfoy sit back in his chair and think for a good minute before he answered in a carefully neutral tone, "To be frank, I do not trust the healers. They have steered me wrong before, and even if they put all they had into helping you, I was not entirely sure that they would be competent enough to do so. I also wished to inform your friends about what had happened myself for mostly the very same reason. I was afraid that the healers might make a mess of the story and make it seem like you were in a less serious condition than you actually were."

Harry was stunned, to say the least. It seemed that today was a day for all of his expectations to crumble around him, because with about every move he had made or word he had said since entering this building, nothing had gone as he had thought they would. Malfoy, it seemed, was no exception. Sure, it wasn't the "I was worried about you," that he had been expecting after what Hermione had said, but if he looked hard enough, it could almost be. For some reason, that was enough to make him smile at the other man, even though Malfoy was still refusing to show more than just a fraction of emotion.

"You know, I would have died last night if you hadn't been there. Thanks, Malfoy." He said sincerely, feeling so awkward about thanking his old rival that he hadn't even been able to come up with a decent way to phrase it.

"You're eloquent as always, Auror Potter. However, you needn't thank me. After all, I do owe you quite a number of life debts if I recall correctly." Malfoy responded without missing a step. However, his words made Harry miss his next step and fall all the way down the stairs. How could he be so calm and collected about mentioning something like that? He hadn't even been thinking about the past and even if he had, he would have immediately swerved around it. Yet, Malfoy just was able to casually put in a reference to the War without even bringing up any of the pain and suffering from it. No amount of Auror training could have ever been able to teach him how to do that.

Therefore, Harry found himself scratching the back of his head and at a loss of how to respond. War topics usually left him like that, because it brought up a whole bucket full of emotions that he was still rather tentative about delving into. Somehow, Malfoy seemed to sense this about him for before Harry could think of anything to say, he changed the subject rather smoothly. "Ah, well, I believe it is still my duty to say that you are welcome for last night, though it really was not that much of a problem on my part. Anyhow, did you have something else you wished to talk about, Auror Potter?"

Cordial, as he said 'eloquent', and, above all, professional. It was driving him nuts. How could he possibly even think about talking about his personal issues with this man when obviously he was working very hard to keep the tone of this conversation businesslike? It was almost as if Harry had thrown a dinner party and was thanking Malfoy for attending rather than thanking him for saving his life, not that Harry would ever throw a dinner party. Grimacing, he sorted through his head to try and find something he could talk to this man about that didn't involve anything related to the female problems in his life. All he could come up with was what he blurted out next, "Err, yes. What do you think of the idea that our sons should spend Christmas at my place?" _That blasted 'err'!_ He was going to get himself thrown out of here unless he thought through his words more carefully.

Harry watched anxiously as Malfoy's eyes narrowed momentarily before seeming to relax even though the rest of his body was still stuck in a very stiff position. The eyes glanced quickly at a picture on his desk that Harry just now realized was one of him and Scorpius, presumably last Christmas as they danced in the snow. It was such a gentle image that Harry had a hard time grasping that the joyous man in the picture was the same as the one sitting before him now. Finally, Malfoy tore his eyes from the moving image and placed them back onto Harry as he responded, "I will have to discuss the situation with Astoria, but as of now, I am perfectly fine with this arrangement. However, I do have one small request."

"What is the request?"

"I request that if my son spends the first half of the break with yours, then your son should spend the second half of the break with mine."

The words befuddled him for a few moments as he tried hard to sort them out. _Yes, the kids would be spending time together. Didn't he just say the same thing but backwards? That didn't make sense. Wait. Oh_. "You want Al to go back to Malfoy Manor with Scorpius for the second half?" He asked, feeling slightly foolish that he hadn't thought that Malfoy would feel the same way as he would about the situation if it had been reversed.

"Yes, we can switch on Boxing Day, to be precise. If that is fine with you, of course." Malfoy explained further, his posture still not relaxing.

Harry thought for a moment and frowned, remembering his annual New Year's plans. Well, if it was just this one year, maybe he could reschedule. He just hoped they hadn't made any Christmas Eve plans yet. It had been a nightmare coordinating New Years so long ago; he could just imagine what he would think when Harry asked to change the plans. Well, if he couldn't, then Al would just have to miss out this one year, not that Al would object to that. After all, his kids hated that part of the holidays. Harry couldn't exactly blame them either, but it was tradition so they had to deal with it. Shrugging his shoulders, he looked back at Malfoy and smiled crookedly, "Yeah, sure. Why not? Maybe we could even hang out on Boxing Day before going our separate ways." He joked, feeling that there was no way in Hell that Malfoy would agree to hang out with him and his brood for so long.

Was that a…? It was. It was a smile. Malfoy was actually smiling at his joke. Maybe his gut instinct was right after all. Maybe he would be able to get the advice he had come for. "Perhaps, though I wouldn't count on it if I were you, Potter. Was there anything else you wished to talk to me about? There was nothing wrong with the solution, surely?" Malfoy asked and Harry felt that it was now or never, especially since Malfoy had finally dropped the use of his title. He might never get that much emotion out of the other man again if he didn't strike now.

"Actually, yes I do…and no, there wasn't. But could we talk somewhere else, maybe over dinner?" He asked, taking the biggest chance yet.

Malfoy looked at him with an expression that could only be described as shock mixed with confusion and maybe a little bit of worry. However, Harry only had a slim chance to see it before it was hidden behind the wall again. The other man looked down at his desk and opened a journal that looked nearly identical to the one Madam Vina had, right down to even her handwriting on the page. When Malfoy's eyes spotted the bottom of the page and read the words written there, Harry could have sworn he heard a slight gasp come from the man. Then, the blond put the journal away and looked at Harry with a partially amused expression.

"Yes, I believe I am open to do dinner with you, Potter."

_Dear Al,_

_ Sorry for taking so long to respond. I'm guessing that you have heard by now that I splinched myself last night. It wasn't too bad; I only lost my hand. The healers found it and sealed it back up quickly. There's a cool scar there now, though. It's pretty much a white bracelet without the annoyingness of women's jewelry. Anyway, the point is that I'm fine, so don't worry too much, okay? Your Uncle George was making a joke about you running off to Professor McGonagall, and I know you're tougher than that but if you do get the urge to see me, set up a time and I can firecall you._

_ Oh! In answer to your question, Scorpius may come home with you for the first half of the Break. However, I talked to his father and we have both agreed that you are to spend the second half at the Manor with them. Don't think this means you get to get out of our New Year's tradition though! I'll be working hard to reschedule that so you can still see them. After all, family is important even if you don't like them._

_Love,_

_Dad_

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**So, less drama is always great, right? Anyway, thanks for all the reviews last time, I really loved them, so review review review again! Please? Love you guys. Also, can you guess who the Potters are going to visit over the Winter Break? It's a surprise, so if you guess right, I'll tell you, but otherwise, you'll just have to wait and see. **


	10. The Faults of Love

**Hey guys! Ummm…sorry? That probably doesn't cover it. Eck. I know this chapter took forever. I've had huge writer's block on this one though lately. Originally, I was going to start it completely different, but failing to come up with the words, I decided to change it. Anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the really long wait y'all had to endure. **

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Chapter 10: The Faults of Love

"It's just one day. Surely whoever it is can reschedule, right? Please?"

Draco was finding it very difficult at the moment to keep his expression neutral when Potter had spent the last ten minutes practically – no, literally – begging Madam Vina to let Draco have the rest of the day off. The other man had done everything slight of get on his hands and knees, which would have been nothing but pathetic if he had done so. However, it wasn't Potter's insistent begging that was pulling at Draco's funny bone. No, it was the fact that it was completely unnecessary because Madam Vina had already changed his schedule in the day planner that Creevey had seen in a window one Christmas and thought to buy for all three of them in order for Madam Vina to have an easy way to update them on their schedules. The slot for the rest of the day now read, "Out with Auror Potter."

Really, the only reason Potter was making a complete tosser of himself was the fact that Draco was and would always be a Slytherin and if Madam Vina had gone to Hogwarts, he was sure she would've been in that House as well. Therefore, he was not about to allow Potter to get away with his Gryffindor urges so easily. Thus, he had secretly written in his planner under her words, "Only if he begs," before leaving his office. Getting his message, Madam Vina had been quick to stop Potter and himself from getting anywhere near the lift, a feat that Draco inwardly deemed remarkable because Potter had seemed ready to apparate out of this building the moment Draco had agreed.

"You seem to be under the impression that we deal with common miscreants, Auror Potter." Madam Vina snapped back, glaring directly at Potter's twitching form.

"No, I didn't, I mean…"

"I will have you know that our clients are among the most highly ranked officials in all of Wizarding Society, and as such, they are very busy individuals that do not enjoy having to reschedule even a minute of their time."

"Well, who are they? Maybe I can talk to them…"

"We do not disclose the names of our clients, Auror Potter, as you should very well know, and even if we did what would you propose to do? Use your name on them? I do not know if you know this, Mr. Potter, but your name is not all it used to be."

"That's enough, Madam Vina. I am positive that my meetings can be rescheduled, so Auror Potter and I really will be leaving now." Draco finally broke in, feeling that if he allowed this conversation to go any further, it might tip into some very dangerous territory.

He then nodded towards the lift while glancing at Potter's nose, not wanting to look into those green eyes at the moment. Frowning, Potter made a movement towards the object Draco had just indicated, only to be stopped by a coughing noise coming from the desk. Draco turned back and stared directly into Madam Vina's black eyes until the woman finally relented. "Should I expect you here tomorrow, sir?" She asked in a tone that suggested something Draco would never have dared even think about.

"No. I have a _special _meeting tomorrow, and that should last most of the day." He responded curtly, watching her eyes widen and then narrow as she understood what kind of meeting he was talking about.

"Of course, sir. See you on Monday then," She said and then took a moment to glare at Potter before returning to her work.

Frowning slightly, Draco shrugged and then got into the lift with Potter. As soon as the doors closed and he leaned across Potter with his arm, causing the other man to attempt to jump back slightly, to press the button for the first floor, it began to dawn on Draco just how small the lift was. How small and how quiet it was. Neither of them spoke, so the only sounds he heard were their breathing, which did not help when his only thoughts were on how if he just moved any part of his body a few inches, that part might make contact with the other man. Therefore, when the doors finally opened, he had to force himself to not actually leap out of the lift and instead to walk like a normal person who had not just had the most awkward lift ride in his entire life.

Both of them passed through the first floor quite easily and without any problems, since Ms. Carlton had already been informed of what was happening. After all, with those two women, nothing ever passed one without the other finding out in mere seconds. What seemed like forever ago, he had tried to separate them by moving Madam Vina up to his floor without a personal fireplace, but within a few days, the two women had found an alternate route of communication, namely being the memos that the Ministry used. While Creevey had laughed at the "paper airplanes" flying constantly from one floor to the next, it had not sat well with him. After all, the first floor was meant to be a purely muggle-style floor and the memos were undoubtedly magical. Therefore, they had eventually settled on a two-way diary, much like the planner that Madam Vina, Creevey, and he all shared.

Once they had exited the building, Draco finally looked at Potter properly and was surprised to find the other man staring not at his face but at his robes with a horrible expression, an expression that was summed up into one word: improper. "What?" He growled defensively, feeling rather off-put that Potter, of all people, was disapproving of some of his best robes.

In answer, the other man looked up at Draco's face and grimaced before asking, "Do you own muggle clothing?"

Draco blinked and took a step back, because that was not at all what he had been expecting. "Yes," He replied, feeling that as long as Potter wasn't insulting the style of his clothing that he might as well try and be straightforward with him, if not nice.

Potter smiled in the most unusual way; it was as if he were trying to hold back a lot of laughter. "I meant, do you own anything muggle that is casual and not meant for five-star restaurants?"

"Absolutely not. Merlin, who do you think I am, Potter?" He scoffed, suddenly feeling much like he had back before fifth year, before his entire upper-class life had come crumbling down.

Potter actually did laugh then, making Draco's face turn light pink, a notion that just made Potter's laughing problem worse. Groaning slightly, Draco grabbed the sleeve of Potter's robes and dragged him into the alleyway on the side of the building. Turning around to face the brunet, Draco readied his glare to get Potter to stop chortling, but it wasn't necessary. The other man wasn't laughing anymore. In fact, he looked concerned now rather than bemused. Feeling more on edge with each passing moment about this whole affair, Draco finally asked, "Well, where did you have in mind that needed muggle clothes for?"

"Err, I know this diner in South London that serves really good food and, as far as I know, no one else in the Wizarding World knows about it, so it's a nice place to have a private conversation." Potter explained, or babbled really.

"That sounds...quaint. However, neither of us is dressed for such a place and as I stated before, I do not own _casual _muggle attire."

"Well, I do, so we could stop by my place to change before going." Potter offered to Draco's dismay.

Was Potter actually asking him over to his house? Was he truly offering his own clothes up for Draco's use? This wasn't right. Something was very wrong with the man if he was talking to Draco as if he fully trusted him after all that had happened between them.

Then a thought occurred to him, a thought that made him both grateful and infuriated. Had Granger told him? If she had, was he doing this out of sympathy or…no. He would not go down that road. After all, that couldn't be it at all. Granger would not have just out right told Potter. She would have done something more clever and devious than that. She would...no. She didn't! She did, didn't she?

Irritated at his thoughts on Granger's motives, he hadn't realized that Potter was now looking at him with an expression that was beginning to portray just how hurt and broken the man was. Just with that, Draco was beginning to see that no matter how much he might be falling straight into Granger's trap, he would not be able to leave this man's side for fear of just wounding him more. Therefore, he might as well go along with whatever both Gryffindors were up to, even if one of them had no knowledge of the other's plans.

"Okay, fine. Where do you live, Potter?"

This question seemed to startle the other man, because his eyes widened and he took a step back as he frowned tightly. "Why do you need to know that?"

"Because I will need to side-along you there, obviously. Did you expect me to _walk _to your house?"

"Why can't I just side-along you?"

That question, though he had expected it, stirred some rather nasty emotions inside of Draco, leading him to snap the next few sentences at Potter angrily. "Are you joking with me, Potter? Have you forgotten who found you last night? The last time you apparated, you nearly got yourself killed!"

"That's not true." Potter muttered, staring at his shoes like a kid that had repeatedly lied to his parents about going on his broom when they had sternly told him not to.

"What about that, for Merlin's sake, is not true?"

"I apparated here from Ron an' 'Mione's earlier,"

"You did what? How could they let you do that? Did the healers not tell you to not apparate for a while?" Draco growled, thoroughly disgusted with Potter's so-called friends. First, they had taken hours upon hours to get to the hospital when they had been informed that their best friend could possibly die at any second and now that he was deemed healed, they were already letting him risk his life again. It made Draco feel slightly nauseous, at the very least.

Draco saw Potter's face redden behind the shield of messy black hair, and without lifting his face, the man said sheepishly, "They didn't know, but I got here alright. It was just because I was...err, not myself last night. I'm fine to apparate now."

"Well, excuse me if I do not think so, Potter. In fact, I have half a mind to send an owl to your boss and have him temporarily take your license away if you continue to apparate while under orders not to."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could somehow take them back. However, it was too late. Potter's eyes had finally left his shoes to latch onto Draco's eyes and they were the loathsome eyes Draco had been accustomed to seeing as a child. They were the eyes that meant only one thing, and Draco had never wished to see those eyes on this new adult face. It was too much for him to handle and he had to turn around and start walking. He had to. If he stayed there staring into those eyes, he was scared that he wouldn't be able to pull off the glare that he had so perfected as a child. He was afraid that he might start crying again and right now, Potter was the one in pain. Potter was the one in need. He couldn't let his own feelings get in the way of that.

"Come on, then. We can use Ms. Carlton's floo to get to your house. I trust it is attached to the floo network?" He managed to say, able to be calm and himself as long as those piercing green eyes were on his back and not staring him in the face.

"It is," Potter replied shortly as both of them re-entered the building. Ms. Carlton looked up in surprise at their appearance and immediately she latched onto Draco's face, looking for something as if she were able to read him like a book.

"Mr. Malfoy, I thought you were leaving. What are you doing back so soon?" She asked, her eyes now lingering on Potter and by her expression, Draco knew that he still didn't want to see what Potter looked like at the moment.

"I forgot that we had some transportation difficulties, so we need to use your floo." He responded, staring directly into her eyes so that she would not ask too many questions for once in her life.

She was frowning and he could see that she was worried, but as it was none of her business, he was not about to let her in on any of this. This had become, rather oddly, a personal matter and that meant she, as the business side of his life, should not be any part of it. Thankfully, she seemed to understand that without him needing to say anymore, for the next moment she was pulling a pot of floo powder out of one of her drawers and holding it out to him. Nodding, he took the pot and held it out to Potter, his eyes focusing on anywhere besides the man's eyes.

"You first, Auror Potter," He offered, returning to the use of titles to avoid further offending the man. Potter nodded and took up a handful of the powder before stepping behind the desk and up to the fire. He said two words that Draco couldn't quite make out but sounded something like 'Gremlin Place', and then he stepped into the flames and disappeared.

Draco then picked up his own handful of floo powder, but did not move towards the fireplace as he was waiting for some sign of Potter in the flames, having no idea where he was going. However, the flames only swayed back and forth with the rhythm of the heat waves coursing through the room. There was no sign of the other man and Draco was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to go through with his plans after all. Nevertheless, just when Draco was about to give up on him and go back to work, Potter's head appeared in the flames. "Sorry for taking so long; I had to alter the wards to allow you through. The address is 12 Grimmauld Place, okay?" He said and Draco latched onto the fiery green eyes and relaxed. It was going to be okay.

Draco nodded and then the head disappeared again. He took a step towards the flames and was about to toss his powder into the fireplace when a voice from behind stopped him, "Mr. Malfoy, are you sure this is a good idea?"

He turned to glance at Ms. Carlton and noticed the way her lips were turned down and her eyes were widened slightly as she stared at him with nothing but concern. Letting out a quiet sigh, he shook his head but smirked at her. "Absolutely not, but who knows? It might be the best idea." He muttered more to himself than to her before tossing the powder into the flames, announcing his destination, and letting the fire take him.

As he watched the desired fireplace opening come into view, Draco took a step forwards and felt his world turn upsidedown while his feet found the floor. Putting two fingers up to his temple to right his mind, he calmed himself from the familiar sensation of floo travel before taking out his wand to banish the dust from his clothes. When he was finished, he opened his eyes to find Potter glaring at him. However, it wasn't quite a glare. It was more as if Potter was either supremely jealous of something or thoroughly irritated by it, or both.

"How do you do that?" The man asked in a voice that matched his eyes.

Frowning, Draco looked around as if thinking he could find the question to Potter's question in the…kitchen? Had they landed in a kitchen? Momentarily distracted, Draco admired the detailing on the counter-tops and especially the cabinets. Was that a basilisk that was engraved around the letter B on the top of the fireplace? This couldn't be Potter's home. He was a Gryffindor and this place, by the gorgeous table alone, had to be owned by a rather rich Slytherin family. Just as Draco was about to start admiring the detailing on the marble sink, his attention was diverted when Potter coughed pointedly. Shrugging, Draco looked at the man and merely asked, "How do I do what exactly?"

"How do you use the floo without getting all rumpled?"

Draco merely raised an eyebrow and shook his head as he took a few steps away from Potter to run his fingertips along the smooth wood of the counter. "That would be the fact that I was raised by wizards, Potter. I've been using the floo along with all other sorts of legal magical transportation since I could ride my first broom." He stated as he focused on the small silver doorknobs on the cabinets, each of which had the same letter B engraved onto them as the fireplace mantel had. "Are you sure this is your house, Potter?" He finally asked, turning back to face the other man who was still standing by the fireplace, watching him.

"Yes. Why? Do you not like it?"

"No, I actually quite enjoy it. However, I feel it is a bit Slytherin for your tastes, and I do not believe either you, or your wife, have a B anywhere in your names."

"That's because this house belonged to the Blacks a very long time ago. I inherited it from my godfather in sixth year and have lived here since the war ended. Don't worry though; I'm sure the rest of the house will be more up to your expectations." Potter explained, grinning mischievously before heading towards the door Draco had not yet noticed and stepping through. Draco followed cautiously, going up the steps out of the kitchen and into a long hallway with two doors on the right, a staircase on the left, and a portrait hidden behind some curtains beside the door directly in front of him that was presumably the front door.

As for his expectations, Potter was correct in his assumptions. If he looked closely, Draco could still see the remnants of the old Black house but the trimming along the walls was painted with red and green lines and the staircase had red and gold ribbon wrapped around each column. Also, other than the mysterious portrait, pictures were put everywhere along the walls. Each one showed various members of the Potter-Weasley clan doing various activities, none of which Draco supposed the Blacks would have approved of. Overall, if this was just the entrance hall, he expected more Gryffindor flair throughout the rest of the house.

When Draco was done glancing over the hallway, he focused his attention back on Potter who was waiting outside of the second doorway for him to catch up. "Hey, do you mind waiting in here while I go take a quick shower? I haven't exactly been able to change since yesterday morning." Potter flushed as he rubbed his fingers along the back of his head sheepishly. At that, Draco glanced down and really noticed the auror robes Potter was still wearing. There were stains from the ground all over one side of them and the end of his left sleeve was covered in dried blood. That and the fact that Potter's hair was actually starting to lay flat from the amount of muck probably still stuck in it made Draco wonder how he had failed to notice all of this before. Therefore, he nodded and Potter grinned, said he'd be right back, and then ran up the stairs.

Once Draco was alone, he glanced around at the Gryffindor decorations in the hall again before shrugging and entering the room Potter had indicated before leaving. This was a room Draco liked, but for an entirely different reason than why he had liked the kitchen. No, this one was what he wished more rooms in the Manor were like: comfortable. There were two soft, plush chairs, a three person sofa, a rug that seemed to be a patchwork of several different rugs on top of a dark-tiled floor, and a cozy looking fireplace with more pictures of Potter's kids sitting on the mantel. Three of the four walls were covered with shelves of books with all sorts of topics that Draco couldn't imagine Potter would be even the slightest bit interested in. His fingers traced over a book with the title _Cures and Poisons, How to Cure the Simplest Poisons_, and it barked at him "Don't touch! I'm still reading it! Page 235" in a young boy's voice.

Interested, Draco tapped the spines of three other books in various positions on different shelves and they all called out roughly the same thing with a different page number at the end, denoting what page the reader was on. They were always the same voice though, so he deduced that only one member of the Potter family was actually interested in reading these books. Strangely, no matter how he looked, Draco could not seem to figure out what the sorting system for the books was though. It seemed that though the books were in a condition that Madam Pince would have approved of, they had just been put back in a random place to continue reading later. He supposed it made sense. Potter had never seemed to be very organized as a child and even if reading had somehow become his son's interest, it didn't mean that the kid would actually make an ordering system for the books.

Once he was done fiddling with the books, the last wall caught his eye. The entire wall was covered with what seemed to be some sort of family tree, except instead of a tree, it seemed to just be made up of vines. As he looked closer, he noted that most of the names had the surname belonging to the house and not to Potter, so he very much doubted that Potter and his family were actually on this wall at all. With his finger, he traced one of the vines that held the name Walburga Black and followed it along to her brother Cygnus's line. Down from there, he was only slightly surprised to read his own mother's name, which was connected to his father's name. Down from there, he found himself connected to Astoria Greengrass and from there, the vine ended with Scorpius. It made him wonder whether or not this family tree automatically grew when people married or had kids or if Potter had actually added Astoria and Scorpius on here.

He was leaning forward and about to trace Scorpius's name when he heard something upstairs crash. On alert, he left the room and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the second floor, he looked around and panicked. He had no idea where anything was in this house or even what floor that noise had come from. "Potter?" He called out, hoping that the other man was fine and could respond. After another minute of silence, Draco jumped into motion, running down the hallway on the second floor trying each and every door in search of Potter. Failing with that floor, he ran up another flight of stairs. Now on the third floor, he looked through each room and still found nothing besides empty bedrooms. Thoroughly panicking now, he ran up the final flight of stairs and almost cried out with relief when he saw the door on the left open.

Upon entering the room, he took in the wave of Gryffindor themed décor before falling to his knees in front of Potter, who was sitting on the floor in a green robe sobbing as he stared at a picture on the ground beside him. The picture, which must've caused the crashing noise he had heard for glass was shattered all around it and the frame was broken into two pieces, was of Potter and his wife. They were dancing in their dress-robes in the Great Hall at Hogwarts at what must've been the reopening ceremony. Though Draco could tell just from the picture that Potter was a horrible dancer, the Weaslette seemed to be having the time of her life as she was swung around by the man she loved. After a few moments, the Potter in the picture stopped her silent laughter with a deep kiss and the real Potter let out a very audible sob.

Realizing quickly that the picture was the thing that was causing Potter distress; Draco banished the glass and broken frame before picking up the picture and turning it upside-down so that neither of them could see the dancing duo anymore. He then pulled Potter over to the bed and sat beside him with their backs against the foot-board. Their shoulders were pressed together, but other than that, Draco did not dare to touch the man. He did not say anything either, knowing that asking might very well make it worse. Potter needed to speak on his own time and in his own way, otherwise the healing process might go badly. Therefore, he just waited silently beside him as Potter sobbed into his knees, his wet hair dripping onto the carpeted floor underneath them.

After a long while, Draco was beginning to get frustrated. He was not a very patient person, having inherited that trait from his father, and his mind was burning with questions about what was really going on. He figured it had something to do with the Weaslette, but knowing how the media had treated his own relationship issues, he did not want to jump to any conclusions without some sort of proof against his theories. Therefore, when it looked like Potter had finally stopped crying and was not going to start talking first; Draco tried something that shouldn't be too impersonal. "So, how about we just make dinner here and eat rather than going out to that muggle place? You do have food here, right?"

Potter took a bit to respond, but when he did, he wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands and smiled slightly at Draco. Encouraged, Draco got to his feet and held out his hands for Potter to grab onto. Slowly but surely, the other man grabbed onto Draco's offered hands and used the ground as a base to push himself to his feet. Once he was there, their hands dropped to their sides and Potter grimaced as he realized he was still just wearing a bathrobe. "Err, yeah. I..umm…do. Just, g-go back to the kitchen and I'll meet you down there in a sec, o-okay?" He finally said shakily, sobs most likely still caught in his throat.

Draco nodded slowly and then headed back towards the hall. Before he left the room, however, he turned and glanced concernedly at the other man. "You'll come down as soon as you've changed, right?" He asked just to make sure. He was worried that Potter might see another picture – because Merlin knows this place is full of them – and break down again. After a moment or two, Potter nodded, and Draco left the room and headed down the stairs. Once in the kitchen again, he started to open up each of the cabinets to see what was in each of them. However, besides a carton of milk in a cabinet that was charmed to stay cold and a bag of crisps in another cabinet, there seemed to be little to no food in the house. He was about to open up the last cabinet when he heard another crash come from the hallway…and then screaming.

"Shut up! I get it! Will you be quiet for once in your life, Mrs. Black!" He heard Potter yelling as he ran back into the hallway. The drapes that had been covering the portrait had been uncovered and Draco saw that the portrait was of a horrible looking old woman that had an even horribly shrill voice, which she was using to yell out profanities against muggleborns and blood-traitors. He took a couple of steps closer and she stopped screeching as soon as she caught sight of him.

"You! What are you doing in this filthy blood-traitor-turned house? I was proud when you married my niece and now you're dealing with _him_. I thought better of you, Lucius. Explain yourself to me now!" The woman demanded of him, staring down her pointed nose at him.

"But I'm not…" He began, but Potter had finally caught up with him and after some cursing and heaving on his part, he managed to pull the drapes closed over the portrait again. Groaning and cursing about permanent sticking charms, Potter led the way back into the kitchen and sat himself down at the table. Draco took the seat opposite him and frowned as he asked, "Whose portrait is that?"

"Walburga Black. She was Sirius, my godfather's mother. I suppose that would make her your great-aunt or something like that. She put a permanent sticking charm on the back of her portrait and on the family tree, which you probably saw in the drawing room. There were a few other sticking charms elsewhere, but during the remodeling, we just ended up tearing down those walls and replacing them with new ones. Kreacher made me keep her picture though, and Hermione thought the family tree could be restored as it was an important artifact or some other rubbish, so those are still there." Potter explained as he rubbed at his still red eyes.

Nodding, Draco frowned and thought for a moment before asking, "Three things: who is Kreacher, what was that loud noise, and where have you hidden the food in this place?"

"Kreacher's my house-elf, I err tripped going down the stairs, and I don't actually know. Kreacher has been preparing the meals lately whenever I'm actually here, otherwise I either eat out or at whosever house I'm at." He responded, scratching the back of his head again.

"So where is Kreacher now?"

"Err, he's on his Hermione-mandated holiday with his daughter, and I'm not allowed to call him back. Err, if there's no food, we could always just order delivery."

"Delivery...?"

"Oh, um. It's a muggle thing. You call your order on a telephone and they deliver it to your house...or the corner in my case." Potter explained and Draco just raised an eyebrow in response, not understanding the majority of the words that had just come out of Potter's mouth.

After a few moments of silence, Potter shrugged and reached into the pocket of his trousers before pulling out a small rectangular...thing. He then pressed a button and the front part of it lit up. He touched the front part a few times and then pressed it to his ear. Eventually, he started speaking, "Hey, I'd like to order some pizza to be delivered to the bus stop at Grimmauld Place...yes, that's right...the order is for Harold Parker...it'll be cash...yeah, one supreme and one meat-lovers, hold the olives on the supreme...thanks, bye."

Then Potter put the rectangle back into his pocket and looked back over at Draco, who was staring at him with a mixture of confusion and awe. "What was that?" Draco finally was able to ask once he had been able to grasp the gist of what had just happened.

"I ordered us some pizza, and before you ask, I don't know how to explain it so you'll just have to taste it when it gets here." Potter said, not at all answering any of Draco's questions, but Draco decided to just let it go. It was a muggle thing and he doubted he would ever really have to understand it.

"So, can we talk about why I am here now?" Draco asked, feeling like that was too blunt, but his mind was still jumbled from a mix of this house and the fact that Potter had just ordered food with a box in his pocket.

Potter frowned and glanced down at his left hand, where Draco noticed a thin circular scar was left where the healers had reattached it, but that wasn't what surprised him. What did surprise him was the fact that the ring finger was empty of a ring. "Could I ask you a question first?" The man finally answered with a question of his own.

"Go ahead," Draco said, having a strange feeling that he knew what Potter was about to ask.

The brunet looked up and into Draco's grey eyes as if looking for something that wasn't there before settling his gaze back on his left hand. "Why are you divorcing Astoria?"

Draco started back in his chair and frowned as he thought about the tapestry where his name had been connected with a golden line to Astoria's. What would happen to it when he left her officially? He supposed that her name might've disappeared completely had he not had Scorpius. Now that Scorpius was here though, he would always be connected to her even when they were through, even if Granger was able to get him full custody. She was a permanent part of his life, but he would do anything to get rid of her now.

Swallowing hard, he shook his head and stared at a scratch in the table as he began to speak. "Astoria and I never loved each other. However, when our parents arranged the wedding, neither of us could find a way to say no. The wedding was good for my family name and my father was still dead-set on me producing an heir. As for her, her family had been going through some financial turmoil so her marrying into my family meant that her family would gain enough money to get back on their feet. It was a perfect match, so to speak.

"For the first year, we tried until she finally became pregnant with Scorpius. However, once he was born, she moved into a different wing of the Manor and we lived quite happily apart. We had an unwritten agreement that we could date whoever we wanted, so she regularly brought guys home. Eventually, I made a second, smaller house in the grounds that she could use with her guests so that Scorpius wouldn't see. However, my son was getting older every year, and the more he understood, the more I feared he would sense that something was very wrong with his family.

"Therefore, when Scorpius turned eleven, I brought it up to her that it might be best for all of us if she and I officially broke it off because I was not going to be able to hide her affairs from my son for very much longer. She said she would think about it, but weeks passed and she continued to avoid me whenever I tried to bring it up again. Three months ago, I found out why. Astoria is pregnant and the child is not mine, but Astoria knows nothing about being a mother so she is scared of having to raise a kid on her own. At first, I was sympathetic to her plight and told her that if she stopped sleeping around on the Manor grounds, I would help her raise the kid.

"However, not a week passed when my father found out. Naturally, he was pissed, and knowing how the _Daily Prophet _works, he was not going to have that kind of scandal in his house. I filed for a divorce, and told her I would do everything I could to split everything up equally and if she needed me, I would be there for her. About a month into the divorce proceedings though, she got scared and turned on me. At first, it was just that she wanted more money or more furniture. Then she decided she wanted the Manor.

"At this point, I was done with wanting to help her and as long as she didn't touch my son, I could care less what she got out of it. Not too long ago though, she decided she wanted him too. Now, I'm fighting against everything to keep my son, but she has now started to show and I'm scared that now that she's gotten the publicity involved and already against me, she's going to pull the sympathy vote about her pregnancy. She'll probably lie and say that the kid is mine and because I'm gay, I want nothing to do with the child since I didn't want it in the first place, not to mention Scorpius. The public will rule on her side and even with Granger - Attorney Weasley - on my side, I very much doubt I'll be able to keep him."

Draco stopped speaking and glanced over to Potter, blinking away some water that must have welled up in his eyes while he was speaking. Upon seeing those green eyes look at him with actual concern, Draco immediately went back to staring at the scratch on the table. His finger traced it carelessly, wondering aimlessly if there was a way to fix it without damaging the wood. He felt ridiculous. Potter probably had just wanted the simple version, 'I never loved her, she never loved me, so we'd be happier separated', rather than this version, the version he had never fully told to anybody, not even Granger.

"Malfoy?" came Potter's voice tentatively. Draco sighed quietly and looked up at those green eyes again; those eyes that had caused him so much pain as a child and somehow were now healing him as an adult. "I'm going to go get the food, but I'll be right back, okay?" He said and Draco blinked. It sounded so much like Potter was actually worrying about him, but that didn't make any sense. Potter never worried or cared about Draco, and Draco was supposed to be the one comforting Potter, not the other way around.

"May I go with you?" Draco found himself asking despite himself.

Smiling crookedly, Potter shook his head. "If you want to watch, you can sit on the doorstep while I talk to the pizza man, but you can't come with me to do the transaction."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, you're still in wizard robes," Potter chuckled and Draco first looked down at the robes he had hastily put on this morning before glancing over to the tight-fitting blue shirt and jeans Potter was wearing.

Swallowing down some irritating feelings, Draco nodded and stood up to follow Potter out of the house. He stopped on the top of the steps and leaned against the doorway, not wishing to actually sit on the ground. Potter grinned and winked at him before jumping down the steps and into the darkened street. Frowning, Draco struggled to keep Potter in sight as he walked towards the edge of the street where a small pavilion had been erected. Leaning forward a little bit, he saw a guy in a red outfit that was holding two boxes start talking to him, but from this distance, he couldn't hear any of the words being said.

Eventually, Potter was handed the boxes, and the guy in red got into a car and then drove off. A minute or two later, Potter jumped back up the steps and lead the way back into the house. If that was the entire trip, Draco was sorely disappointed. He was under the impression that muggle transactions would at least be a tiny bit exciting. All Potter had done was talk to the guy before receiving the strange boxes that supposedly held their food. Feeling like he had missed out on something, Draco followed Potter back into the room with the tapestry and sat down in one of the plush chairs after Potter did the same.

Potter put both boxes on the coffee table and opened each of them. What was inside looked absolutely vile. The 'pizza' that Potter had ordered was a circular creation made of some sort of bread, sauce, cheese, and a rather strange assortment of vegetables or meats. The brunet peeled off one of the meat-covered slices and brought it up to his mouth where he eagerly took a bite out of it. Draco immediately scrunched up his nose and shook his head, feeling ill. When Potter saw this, he started laughing, nearly choking on his bite in the process. "Come on, try one. I promise it takes better than it looks, though it looks pretty good to me."

Draco made a face at that, but he decided he might as well go with it. He peeled off one of the vegetable-covered ones and held it with both hands as he scraped off a miniscule bit with his teeth. He swallowed thoughtfully and decided that it wasn't, in fact, going to kill him, so he took a slightly bigger bite. When the flavors hit him, he had to hold back a moan. He had never in his life tasted something so deliciously seasoned. It literally made his mouth water so that when he swallowed that first bite, he immediately had to take another.

"Like it?" Potter asked and Draco glared at him. He was ruining the second bite.

Once he finished swallowing though, he turned to Potter and frowned. "This is probably the least healthy meal I have ever eaten, but yes, it is good. Now, I told you my sob story, so will you grace me with yours?" He asked, feeling that he was probably being unsympathetic, but he really was getting impatient.

Potter waited until he had finished his first slice of the pizza until he finally responded, "Yeah, okay. It's not going to be as long though, since I don't know what to do and I kind of need your advice. Sounds crazy, right? Me asking your advice?" Draco only shrugged as he took another bite of his pizza, waiting for Potter to go on. "Okay, well...it started a few months back. At first, it was just about my work schedule or the fact that I didn't spend enough time with the kids. Mostly, it was just a lot of yelling both ways, with Ginny I mean, and not a lot of listening. It was all small things though, so we got over it and moved on. I mean, we've been in several fights before, but not this many this close together.

"However, it got worse when the boys went to school. My work schedule got busier, and I was barely seeing Ginny or Lily. Eventually, even when I was home, she was gone. It was like we were avoiding each other because when we did see each other, we just got into more fights. When I found out you were getting divorced, I guess I started thinking about that for myself; it had never really been an option before that. I didn't mention it to her though, because mostly I was afraid of losing her family more than her.

"Don't get me wrong, I loved her. Err, I love her...I mean. I don't know. I just wanted what was best for the kids, and I knew she wanted that too. The problem was that I didn't know if what was the best for them was us staying together anymore. Lately, I had been thinking that maybe all we needed was some marriage therapy. I mean, we had been so happy before and maybe we had just lost sight of that. After last night though, I don't think even therapy can fix it. Malfoy, ugh...what do I do?"

Draco frowned, knowing there was a lot of details Potter was leaving out for some reason, but he didn't want to push him at this point. "What happened last night before I found you?"

"I was supposed to be in the office late again, but I was missing Ginny and thought that maybe since Lily was at her grandmother's, maybe we could work whatever was going on out. However, the door was unlocked and it freaked me out because that meant somehow someone probably had broken in. Running upstairs though, I found her. I found her with...Malfoy, I found her fucking cheating on me! In my own bed! So I went and got drunk and tried to apparate to Ron and Hermione's, but ended up at Malfoy Manor for some reason, and ugh. I just don't know what to do anymore!" Potter yelled, his fingers scratching at his scalp as if thinking pain would somehow solve everything.

Without thinking, Draco put his slice back and moved into Potter's chair. He wrapped his arms around the other man and pressed his head against his shoulder. Potter had gone through a lot of pain lately and Draco couldn't help but think about all the ways he had made it worse. A sob broke out of Potter's body and Draco felt liquid hit his shoulder as Potter began to cry again. Closing his eyes, Draco focused on rubbing Potter's back and rocking him back and forth. He didn't know what else to do, but he hoped very much that what he was doing would help in some way.

After a long time in silence, Draco propped Potter's head up with two fingers and smiled hopefully as Potter's green eyes looked into his. Draco could feel with every fiber of his being how close they were and he knew he had to get away somehow. He was afraid that if Potter continued to look at him for very much longer with those eyes, he might do something stupid like kiss him. Therefore, when he heard the doorbell ring, he had never been more thankful for an intrusion in his life.

"I'll get it; it's probably Granger anyway. You have another slice of that pizza and I'll be right back. We'll talk through this then, okay?" Draco said softly, his fingers not being able to help brushing themselves through Potter's ridiculous hair. Potter just nodded mutely, and Draco untangled himself from the chair. He glanced back at Potter who was watching him with tears still streaking down his face. He nodded encouragingly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

As he walked towards the door, he really hoped it was Granger. If it was anyone else, he would have a hard time explaining as to why he was in Potter's house. Just his luck though, when he opened the door, it wasn't Granger. No, it was probably the worst person to be here right now. It was the Weaslette.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"I would ask you the same question, but that would imply that I actually cared." Draco sneered, not feeling like she deserved any amount of kindness at the moment.

"Excuse me, but this is my house." She retorted angrily.

"Most likely not for long. Look, _Ginevra_. We need to talk."

* * *

**As always, please please please review! I need to know what you guys think so that I know I'm writing this story okay. Also, the reason it took so long for Astoria to start showing is because she's like my step-mom (really skinny) and she doesn't take on weight easily (seriously, my step-mom barely looked pregnant when she was pregnant with my half-brother). Lastly, the semester is ending next week, so I'll have a lot more time to focus on writing really soon! **


	11. The Truth in Her Eyes

**Whoops. So much for using my summer to write. Um, anyway. This chapter is going to be different from all of the previous chapters. Instead of it all being in one point of view, it's going to have Draco in the very beginning and then Harry for the rest of the chapter. This is only because I wanted to finish that scene from last chapter here. **

* * *

Chapter 11: The Truth in Her Eyes

Draco watched as the Weaslette's eyes widened in surprise for little more than a second before narrowing in trepidation. "How much do you know?"

Smirking, Draco leaned against the wall and looked the ginger over. She was in a miserable state just by glancing at her what with her hair slightly tangled as if she had tried to brush it but had stopped halfway through after wondering countless times what the point of it all was. Her hair wasn't the only thing, either. The clothes she was wearing were incessantly wrinkled to the point that Draco's nose was crumpling up on instinct, and if her clothes were messed up, it was nothing compared to the state her face was in. There wasn't an ounce of make-up anywhere nor any signs of beautification spells or potions. There were red splotches all along her cheekbones and her eyes and nose matched the staircase's decorations, they were so red.

"Enough," He sneered and was going to finish with just that, but then his eyes landed on her hands which were bitten, scratched, and still slightly bleeding. Hating what spending all this time with Potter was doing to him, he opened his mouth and explained more, "I know about what you did to him, and I can tell you that he is not going to want to see you."

Her eyes fell to her shoes, which were scuffed and torn around the edges. After a moment or two, Draco could have sworn he saw something fall, but when he looked at the ground there was nothing there. She eventually pulled her head back up and, to his quiet surprise, glared at him as if he had done something wrong instead of her. "This is all _your_ fault!" She cried out and he took a step back in shock.

"I'm not the one who cheated on Potter, Ginevra. I believe that was you." He shot back, struggling to keep his cool in the face of the woman who made Potter shatter into a million pieces and had left him to pick them up when he didn't know the first thing about making the man happy.

"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! You made him think that way! You messed with his head! Why did you have to come back and ruin everything?" Her eyes were filling with tears as she angrily started pounding on Draco's chest, making him continue to back up in order to try and get away from her.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" He snapped as he was finally able to grab a hold of her wrists to stop her attacking him.

"Al becoming Slytherin, you getting a divorce, Harry talking about you non-stop, and Harry fighting with me, always fighting with me because of _you_!"

"That doesn't even make sense. What does any of that have to do with the fact that you cheated on him?" Draco stared into her wild eyes filled to the brim with furious tears and somehow, somewhere inside of him was beginning to yearn for an explanation. A monster inside of him wanted her words to say only one thing, but that was impossible. He had nothing to do with this situation except for the fact that he was helping Potter through it.

"I didn't! I'm telling you I didn't cheat! He saw what he wanted to see because he wants a divorce! He doesn't love me and I was so close to telling him that, but then he burst in when I was in the midst of deciding. I didn't cheat!"

"W-what do you mean by that?" He asked, his voice catching on the first word as the monster stirred beneath the surface.

"By what?"

"That he doesn't love you," He replied, his voice becoming monotone to avoid any unpleasant emotions that were threatening to appear.

"He doesn't." And then seeing the unbelieving look in Draco's eyes, she continued, "Oh, he loves me like a sister. He always has, but he doesn't actually love me. He loves someone else and he just doesn't know it, which is why this is all so absolutely mad!"

"Who?" His voice was very quiet and he was quite surprised that she actually heard the word but she did and her one word answer made the monster inside of him roar and pound against his insides in a desperate attempt to be freed.

"You,"

* * *

Harry awoke to the smell of sausage sizzling. Groggily, he slowly turned onto his back and felt something sliding off of his stomach as he did so. Reflexively, he reached out with his arms to catch the thing. Strangely, it felt more like skin than any object that he might have accidentally slept with. His fingers tiredly explored the thing and found a hand with five slender fingers, an arm then. An arm had been wrapped around him while he slept. It was probably just Ginny; after all, who else would snuggle with him as he slept?

Yawning loudly, he reached up with his hand to rub at his eyes and remove any sleep from them. As he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position on the mattress, the arm having now fallen into his lap, Harry started again to remember. Ginny had cheated on him and after that fight, he hadn't seen her again. Frowning, he glanced down at that arm and found that it was a lot more pale and slender than he was used to. Letting out another yawn, he moved his right arm about until he located his glasses. He put them on and gasped as the arm came into focus, because along the underside of the arm was a Dark Mark.

Harry jumped and fell off of the mattress, simultaneously hitting his head on a table and knocking it over in the process. Despite the large amount of noise this action made, when Harry looked properly at the man still on the mattress, he was still sleeping. Worse than the fact that it was a man he had slept with last night was the fact that the man in question was Draco Malfoy. Sinking down into one of the chairs, he watched the man sleep - on his stomach with his left arm still stretched out over the empty space where Harry had just been - as he slowly remembered what happened last night.

After Malfoy had come back from talking to Hermione, they had continued eating the pizza while Malfoy had spent a good amount of time comforting him as well as confirming his thoughts about divorce being the only option now. However, Malfoy had also said that though Harry should be strict about what he wanted out of the divorce, he shouldn't let his emotions about being cheated on leave Ginny out in the cold with nothing. It had been strange how everything the man had said had made so much sense to him. He had been able to make him come down to Earth and really think about what had happened and what was to come rather than letting his emotions overwhelm him, something he doubted any of his other friends would have been able to do.

Did that make Malfoy one of his friends? Harry glanced down at the transfigured couch that they had argued over the night before since Harry had not wanted to be left alone in the house and so had wanted them both to just stay in the drawing room, but both of them had wanted the other to take the couch, and so they had ended up compromising by changing the couch into a bed. Even with that, Malfoy had started the night faced away from Harry and practically curled up into a tiny ball in order not to touch him, not that Harry blamed him. It was weird to be sharing a bed with a guy that you've hated all of your life. Yet, somehow Malfoy had ended up spread out on his stomach with his face turned towards Harry and his arm curled around him.

Shaking his head, Harry smiled at Malfoy's sleeping form. It was so unlike him, but at the same time, it was the most him Harry had ever been able to see. His long blond hair was loose from its usual ponytail and so spread out and tangled that even some parts of it was sticking to Malfoy's face. That face was also the most free Harry had ever seen it. It was unguarded, but it was also peaceful, leaving Harry to believe that Malfoy was having some good dreams despite all the turmoil that was happening in his awaking world. Harry found that he truly liked this version of Malfoy because void of his usual sneer and sarcastic demeanor, Malfoy actually seemed like a reasonable, even kind person.

Grinning now, Harry almost felt like climbing back into the bed and falling back asleep curled up with the man, but the smell that had originally awoken him was now calling his stomach. He stood up and walked towards the door, opening it as quietly as he could before slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind him. Running his fingers through his hair, he scratched at the back of his head as he opened the door to the kitchen and walked down the steps. As he was opening his mouth to ask Lupa for some juice, his eyes caught a flash of red and he felt a jolt of pain flash through his heart.

"Gin, w-what are you doing here?" He asked, his voice coming out strangled as he stared at the woman who had destroyed his life with a single deed.

Ginny turned her head and grimaced at him before going back to fixing breakfast like she hadn't done in a very long time. "Why don't you have a seat, Harry, and I'll explain while I finish this up?" She said simply, and Harry did as she asked though his eyes did not leave the back of her head the entire time. She didn't explain immediately though, so the room was silent for quite a while as she finished cooking the sausage. Eventually, she put the meat with what looked like store-bought scones on a platter and then brought that platter and a bowl of fruit to the table. She accio'ed the plates and silverware, making Harry realize that she knew Malfoy was here because she set places for three.

When she was done, Ginny put a stasis spell on the meat and then sat down opposite Harry. "It probably doesn't taste that great – you know how I never quite managed to get my mum's talent for cooking – but it's not poisonous. Look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I talked to Malfoy last night and he convinced me that we need to talk. Um, I'm sorry for what I said about him; he's not that bad, I guess."

Harry just stared at her without even moving to touch the food. He still couldn't believe she was here after he had expressly kicked her out two nights ago. Therefore, he didn't answer her even when she attempted to apologize for one of their many arguments. It wasn't the apology he wanted, so he was not about to accept anything less, even with what Malfoy had talked to him about last night.

Eventually, she gave up on waiting for a response and continued, "Harry, I'm so sorry about that night." Harry flinched and looked towards the door, wondering when Malfoy was going to wake up and save him from this conversation. "It was stupid and wrong of me, and if I could take it back, I would." Why hadn't he just stayed in bed with Malfoy? His stomach could've waited. "I should have just told you I wanted us to separate, but I was so scared about messing everything up that I ended up making you think I did something so much worse. There is just no way to fix this now, is there?"

Harry looked back at her and was prepared to snap, maybe even yell, but when he saw her face and how tears were freely flowing down it, he let his shoulders drop and his head fall into his hands. She looked just as messed up as, maybe even more than, he was. Her hair had lost its usual shine and her mouth looked like it hadn't smiled in days. Her eyes were red and make-up free, making him realize how broken she was, and somehow, he could not even think to himself that she deserved to feel all of this pain. No one deserved that. He had gone through enough in his life to know that no one should feel this broken and have to go through their lives being overshadowed by a single mistake.

However, that did not mean he was just going to forgive her. He doubted he could ever forgive her for what she had done. Staring at the empty plate in front of him, Harry finally opened his mouth and spoke, "No, Ginny. Don't you understand what you did? You can't just walk in her two days later and expect me to open my arms to you as if I hadn't just seen your arms around some other guy." Standing back up, he turned away from her and leaned against the counter, his fingernails scratching at the stone. "Why don't you just go?" He forced out, his throat feeling very tight.

"Harry, please. Can we at least talk about this?"

Harry turned back around to face her, still leaning against the counter. Feeling like every bone in his body was experiencing the same sharp pain that was her betrayal, he fixed his eyes on her and asked, "What is there to talk about?"

"There is everything to talk about! Harry, what did you see when you walked into our room that night?" She responded fiercely, staring at him with fresh tears running down her eyes but not even making a move to brush them away.

"You know what I saw! Why do I have to tell you?" He yelled, not being able to hold in his anger and frustration anymore. The pain was just too much. He wished she would just leave.

"No, I don't, because obviously you saw something different than what was actually there! I didn't cheat on you, you great buffoon!" She screamed back, serving to just make Harry angrier. How dare she lie to him like that when he had _seen_ her with another guy in _his_ bed? Did she think he was a fool that would follow her every whim?

"What the bloody hell are you on about?"

"I wasn't doing anything! I haven't been doing anything at all anytime else in case you were wondering as well! I've been spending all that time away from you because I can't stand being around you anymore, because every time I try to love you like I did years ago, either we get into a huge fight or you push me away, even if you don't realize it. It's been getting worse and worse ever since Albus went off to school; it's like you don't even care about me anymore. In fact, all you care about nowadays is Draco sodding Malfoy, and, really Harry, I'm tired of it."

"But-"

"I am so tired of everything. I had no one to turn to for help either. All of my family loves you so much and if anything happened between us, I was afraid that they would either turn against one of us or be torn apart by it all. And Hermione, Luna, and Neville were no help either. Neville is at Hogwarts, Luna is off who-knows-where with her family, and Hermione, I find out, is currently spending all her time helping the one man you never stop talking about.

"I just couldn't deal with it all. I tried seeking help with my old team, but though they were sympathetic, all of them have stable relationships and didn't really want to help me if they knew how to. So I turned to the only two people left and they really really tried to help me. Dean would take me out to eat and maybe catch a muggle film every now and then and Seamus would always fix me meals when I turned up. They tried telling me for ages that I needed to get a divorce, but I wouldn't listen. I was just so scared of what would happen.

"So when I told you over the floo that I had dropped Lily off and was going to be out again, I was really wanting you to tell me that we could go out instead, have a date night or something. I was looking for any excuse at that point to stay with you, but then you turned me down and said you were going to stay at work late. I didn't go out. I was so distraught that when I got home, I didn't even lock the door, somehow hoping that you'd come home right behind me. I crawled into bed and stayed there for hours, just hoping you'd show up, but you didn't and eventually I just locked the bedroom door so that I could cry without the house-elves checking on me.

"After a while, I felt Dean's presence on the wards, asking to be let in. Desperate for company, I adjusted it to where he could apparate to where I was. When he found me Harry, he was so nice. He didn't ask what was wrong or anything; he just sat on the bed beside me and let me cry onto his stomach. It was then that I realized I literally could do nothing to save our marriage, Harry, but it was too late. You burst in and started yelling and I couldn't do anything to make you believe that I didn't cheat on you when you had just seen that. So I left with Dean after he convinced me that you just needed a few days to cool off. He told me to come back and talk to you yesterday, but I was so scared so I rang the doorbell hoping you wouldn't be home, and Malfoy answered which just made everything worse."

She finally stopped talking and Harry stared into her bloodshot eyes. He wanted so much to believe her, but he had been so broken over the past few days that he literally didn't know how to think rationally about what had happened in order to believe her. It made so much sense that he felt utterly miserable about thinking so many horrible thoughts about her. However, there was one thing that was bothering him about that story.

"I don't understand. If you and Malfoy talked last night and he made you talk to me about all of this, why did he tell me that there was no other option but divorce?"

Ginny shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "Harry, there is no other option now. This marriage can't be fixed. Even if the past few days had gone differently, we would still need to separate. I can't live like this anymore, and I think you feel the same way. However, don't expect me to understand why Malfoy does anything. He might have agreed with me last night, but I still don't like him and I think I'm right to say he doesn't like me either. Why don't you just ask him?"

Harry sighed and shook his head, finally conceding that perhaps he had been wrong to let his life shatter like that. However, the pain in his chest would not go away and he knew that even if he had been wrong about the cheating, he was still losing the love of his life and the mother of his children to divorce. He had been such a fool. "So if I were to firecall Seamus or Dean..." He started to say but then trailed off at the look on her face.

"They would tell you that what I said was the truth and that you are an oblivious idiot that couldn't see apple for a pear." She responded curtly as she rubbed away the tears from her eyes.

"Oh,"

"Potter, where did you put my robes?"

Harry and Ginny looked towards the door to see Malfoy standing there in Harry's tank top and pajama bottoms with his hair falling down to his torso and his mouth turned down to show his disapproval of his current state. A few seconds passed before Harry looked back at Ginny, caught her eye, and then they both burst out laughing. Harry reached out, grabbed an apple slice and took a bite before glancing back at Malfoy and grinning. "I'm sure they're somewhere around here. Come on, have some breakfast."

Groaning and running his fingers through his hair to presumably untangle it, Malfoy walked over to the table and sat down next to Harry. Harry then nudged Malfoy lightly with his shoulder and pointed with his fork at the food. With a sound that was half yawn and half grumbling, Malfoy glowered at Harry before reaching out and filling his plate with a bit of everything. Laughing again, Harry shook his head and filled his own plate as Ginny did the same thing. Obviously, Malfoy was not a morning person and for some reason, this amused him greatly.

"So, where have you been staying, Gin?" Harry asked after swallowing a bite of his sausage, feeling that he might as well try to be nice to her since, after all, she had apparently done nothing wrong other than be worried about wanting a divorce.

Ginny glanced at him worriedly and poured herself some orange juice before answering, "At Dean and Seamus's. Did you know that the reason they are roommates and have never gotten married is because they are actually partners?"

"No, I didn't. That's err good for them, I suppose. Err, have you told anyone else about how we're separated?" Harry asked, staring at his plate as he continued to eat his sausage.

"No, I haven't. Have you told anyone about what you thought you saw?"

"No one besides him," Harry grimaced around another apple slice, nodding his head towards Malfoy, who was still pulling at his hair as he ate everything with a fork and knife.

"Alright. Um, maybe we should keep the divorce secret for a bit? Just until after the holidays? You know how my mum is about Christmas."

Harry frowned and glanced over at Malfoy, who was still ignoring them as he picked at his food. "We can't, Ginny. I promised Al that he could go to Malfoy's house with Scorpius after Christmas, and we need to do it with everyone there."

Ginny nodded thoughtfully as she popped a grape into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Harry picked up his glass with his left hand, since his right was busy, and took a swig of his own juice. When he put the glass back down, he noticed that Ginny was now staring at his left hand. "If we're going to act like everything is normal until the boys get back though, you'll probably need to put your wedding ring back on." She finally said and Harry looked down at his ring finger where a tan line had been created from wearing the ring all of the time.

"I can't," He responded, frowning.

"I know it's hard, but for just a month. It's not something my mum would miss."

"No, that's not it. I don't have it anymore."

"What do you mean? Did you throw it away?"

"No. Ginny, I splinched myself that night."

"You…what?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide with horror and worry.

"I was angry, so I went and got drunk. I tried apparating and ended up leaving my hand behind. When they found it, the ring was gone. I wouldn't even know where to begin searching for it." Harry explained, not really feeling like going into the whole story right now when he was still trying to figure out how to get over the fact that he had wasted the last two days.

"Oh," She said and then glanced at the clock on the wall. Sighing, she finished her food and then stood up. "Sorry, but I need to go. Harry, could you walk me out?"

Harry nodded and glanced over at Malfoy. The blond turned towards him and lifted an eyebrow before nodding his head towards the door. Grinning, Harry stood and followed Ginny out of the kitchen and down the hallway. When they reached the door, Ginny turned around to face Harry and let a sad smile grace her face. "Harry, I was wrong about a lot of things, but mostly, I was wrong about Malfoy. That git's father might have tried to get me killed when I was eleven, but he is not his father. No, he is a much better man than his father ever was. Harry, could you tell me something?"

"What?"

"Do you like him?"

"Err, I suppose so. He's helped me out a lot when he didn't have to, so I guess we're almost friends now or something. Why?" Harry said, frowning as he tried to sort out what he did think of Malfoy.

Ginny just shook her head and smiled in a way that Harry had learned over the years meant she understood something that he didn't. "Oh, no reason. Just think about that something and be nice to him, okay? Oh, and we might as well tell Hermione that we're going to need her help with figuring out how to split everything up in the divorce. She'll keep everything confidential."

Confused and slightly irritated that she was keeping some knowledge from him, he agreed with her on both accounts even though he wasn't entirely sure what he was agreeing to on the first one. Then, they both said their goodbyes and Ginny apparated off of the top step. Closing the door behind him, Harry made his way back to the kitchen where he found Malfoy staring at him with a facial expression that seemed prone to murder. "What?"

"I said be fair, not a bloody saint. The woman lied to you for ages about how she felt, and you could have used this chance to get her family on your side before she has a chance to make the entire divorce, not to mention her bloody family which is obviously very important to you, on her side. The least you could have done is checked her sources before letting her straight back into your life. You know, it was a joke back in school but maybe they should actually make you a saint, Saint Potter." Malfoy lamented, stabbing his sausage with his fork at the end of each sentence.

"It's the sausage, isn't it?" Harry laughed, knowing that even if Ginny had lied about loving him for that long, he had probably been just as guilty of dragging her along. Hadn't he been thinking just a month or two ago that a divorce might be an option because of all their constant arguing? He had just not wanted it to come to that and he was sure Ginny had felt the same way.

"The bloody hell it is the sausage! The woman should never be allowed even near a kitchen. It tastes horrible, not to mention that each piece is incredibly too chewy than what is normal. Why did you let her feed us breakfast? Oh, that's right. It's because you're Saint Potter." Malfoy grumbled, still stabbing the offending meat with his fork.

Harry just continued to laugh, finding himself not at all offended by the old insult. Taking out his wand, he banished the sausage and scones before using _accio_ to have two bowls, two spoons, a box of cereal, and the carton of milk move from their various places in the kitchen to land on the table. He then poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down across from Malfoy. He scooped a bit of it up with his spoon and swallowed it before glancing over at Malfoy with a smile still on his face. "She's not as bad as you think, you know. Sure, she probably could have talked to me more clearly about what she wanted, but I was the one that accused her without waiting for an explanation. As for the divorce, she's not Astoria. We're going to do this right and get it done fast."

Malfoy frowned and shook his head before reaching for the box of cereal to make his own bowl full. Once he was finished pouring the milk, he glanced at the clock and groaned. "Speaking of, where are my robes?" He asked as he took a bite of his cereal.

"What does that have to do with Astoria?" Harry said; confused by how those two related.

"I have to meet her in about two hours, which means that I need my robes so I can go home and get ready."

"Oh, well, I have an idea. Lupa!" He called out and Kreacher's daughter appeared almost immediately.

"You called Lupa, Master Harry?" She asked, her big blue eyes staring up at him with wonder. She was still so young that Harry was very careful to always only put her on simple tasks because if she messed anything up, she was prone to having mental breakdowns.

"Could you look around and see if you can find a set of robes that look much too expensive as to belong to me?"

"Oh, yes, Master Harry!" She exclaimed and then popped away to go look throughout the house.

"Okay. What do you suppose we do while we wait then, Potter?" Malfoy asked as he pushed aside his half-empty cereal bowl.

Harry shook his head, grinning, as he shoved the last few spoonfuls into his mouth before answering, "I dunno, you could look at one of the books in the drawing room. Though, be careful, Al is known to put some hexes on them to keep James from messing them up. I'm going to go upstairs and get ready real fast though." He then stood up and levitated all of the dishes to the counter beside the sink for the house-elves to get later.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a thin white-blond eyebrow raise as Malfoy's mouth turned down into a frown. "Are you going somewhere?"

Harry turned away from Malfoy and headed up the stairs and into the hallway. Without turning back to look at Malfoy, he stated rather bluntly, "With you, of course."

He started counting steps as he walked up the stairs and had reached twenty-four before he heard movement behind him. He turned on the step he was on to see a rather flustered-looking Malfoy ten steps below him. "What. Do. You. Mean. 'With. Me'?" He asked, punctuating each word with a step up the staircase.

Blushing, Harry took a few more steps up the stairs to increase the distance between himself and Malfoy. However, his pursuer just kept climbing the stairs after him and eventually, he reached his floor and had to stop in front of his bedroom with Malfoy right in front of him. "Well?" Malfoy asked again, his voice now taut.

Harry grimaced and slumped his shoulders before finally answering Malfoy's question, "I'm going with you to see Astoria."

"Why?"

"Because you helped me with Gin, and I figure it's about time someone helped you a bit."

"And...?"

Harry flushed and rubbed at his neck as he looked into two disbelieving eyes. "And 'Mione might've mentioned that my name might help you keep Scorpius."

Malfoy faltered and frowned, looking at Harry as if he had grown an extra head. "Why?"

"Well, erm, my name is..."

"No, I know that. My question is why would _I_ need any help from someone like_ you_?"

Beginning to become frustrated, Harry let a barely audible groan and looked straight into Malfoy's grey eyes as he said, "Because believe it or not, my words mean something and as Al's father, I can use his words about how Scorpius feels about you in order to get you keep your son; because after what you told me, I do not believe Astoria is a fit mother and I do not want Al's best friend to be stuck with someone who would not give him a proper environment to grow up in; and because even though I made sure you were cleared from all further persecution related to your relationship with the Death Eaters, that could still come up in this divorce hearing and I am the only one that can stop them from attacking you about that. Is that good enough, Malfoy, or should I continue?"

There seemed to be a storm brewing in those grey eyes, but before Malfoy even had a chance to respond, there was a loud _pop_ and Lupa appeared suddenly beside them holding the robes Malfoy had been wearing yesterday. "Lupa has brought Master Harry Mr. Malfoy's robes," She said happily as she looked up at Harry, holding the robes out for him to take.

"Thank you, Lupa," He said as he took them from her and handed them to Malfoy. She bowed low and then, with another _pop_, she was gone again.

When he looked up again, Malfoy was already halfway down the stairs. Panicking, Harry raced after him and only caught up just when Malfoy was reaching the front door. He pressed himself in between the door and the blond to stop him from leaving the house. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at this and smirked as he said, "I know that I am irresistible, Potter, but I do believe it is still a crime to keep someone captive and, as a auror, you should know that unless you believe yourself above the law."

Ignoring Malfoy's comment, Harry said, "Just let me help you."

Malfoy's upper lip curled and he moved to push Harry out of the way as he replied in a sneer, "I do not need your help, Potter. I am perfectly capable of handling my own affairs. Anyway, I was under the impression that you have a divorce to prepare and a daughter that needs looking after."

Then he was gone and Harry found himself an hour later standing on his best friends' doorstep, ringing the doorbell and feeling completely miserable. He didn't know what had happened. They had been getting along so well. He had even thought for one beautiful moment that they were actually friends. Malfoy had helped him so much last night and they had even laughed together this morning. However, the moment Harry tried to return the favor and help him, Malfoy was back to being cold and cruel. It was irritating, to say the least.

Hermione was the one who answered the door and by the look on her face, he knew he had arrived just in time to prevent a panic attack. "Oh Harry, I am so glad to see you. Get in, get in!" She pulled him inside and shut the door behind him before rushing back into the kitchen.

Harry followed worriedly and as he entered, he watched as sandwich supplies zoomed through the air from various locations, all landing on several paper towels laid out on the counter. "'Mione, are you okay?"

"Absolutely not! A letter arrived this morning from the primary school saying that the school was going to be closed today due to a student getting upset and accidentally flooding the entire place. I floo'ed Ron's mum, but she says she can't watch them because the gnomes are ruining her vegetables and Fleur's parents are planning on visiting for the weekend so she has make the house clean, you know how she is about the Delacours. Everyone else either has jobs or are out of the country, so I was going absolutely mad about what I was going to do since I have a meeting this afternoon with the Malfoys, but then you showed up, so you better say you can take the kids or I will curse you into next week, Harry." She ranted as the sandwiches made themselves, rather messily in her frantic state, and finished by pointing her wand threateningly at Harry, causing a bit of mustard to squirt onto his nose.

"Sure, I can take the kids. I'm off work today anyway because of that splinching thing. Except, Hermione, I really need to tell you something." He said as calmly as he could muster as he grabbed a towel and rubbed the mustard off of his face.

Hermione glared at him as she packaged up the sandwiches into little brown bags. "If it isn't seriously life threatening, I don't want to hear about it right now."

"Well, it could be, but is not necessarily so. However, it is really important and you really need to know about this."

"Fine, whatever, but be quick about it." She rolled her eyes at him as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink.

"First, I need you to swear that you won't tell anyone, not even Ron. Actually, especially not Ron." At this Hermione's eyes narrowed with suspicion, but she agreed nonetheless. "Okay, err, Ginny and I are wanting to get a divorce."

"What did you just say?" She whispered tightly, her eyes flashing with an emotion that Harry couldn't quite identify.

"I'm getting a divorce, Hermione."

Her eyes widened with anguish for a moment before she turned into her calculating mode. He could see her putting the pieces together in the way only Hermione could. "You got into a fight with her that night, didn't you? That's why she didn't turn up at the hospital. You've been fighting a lot lately, haven't you? I thought Ginny looked upset the last time I saw her, but I never thought. Oh, Harry. Why didn't you tell us? We could've helped!" She cried out as she pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back, but for some reason, her hug didn't help to ease the pain he was still feeling at all.

When they broke apart, Harry looked down into Hermione's brown eyes and smiled sadly. "I don't think you could've, Hermione. We just don't love each other like we used to. It's been a long time coming, but I just didn't notice until recently. We didn't tell you because we didn't want to hurt anyone, but we just can't live like this anymore since we're both so unhappy. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, Harry, but oh, I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry."

"I know, Hermione. I know."

* * *

**Okay, so don't kill me for this chapter please? I know it's not that great but at this point, I just wanted to give you guys something. I'm in a writing mood currently, so hopefully it won't take me too long to get the next chapter out. Um, review please? **


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